


Life is Unthinkable

by DarkTidings



Series: Grenade Moment [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Internalized Homophobia, Past Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Past Rick Grimes/Shane Walsh, Period-Typical Homophobia, Strong Female Characters, Survival Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:29:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26026486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkTidings/pseuds/DarkTidings
Summary: AU: After her husband's death, Lori Grimes must come to terms with what stepping up into his place as the lynchpin of their family really means.
Relationships: Lori Grimes/Shane Walsh
Series: Grenade Moment [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1888204
Comments: 147
Kudos: 47





	1. World Ending Grief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoingInMotions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoingInMotions/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Homesick](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10941162) by [shipping_slut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipping_slut/pseuds/shipping_slut). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Lori packs for evacuation to Atlanta, Shane's arrival with news of Rick's death causes her to have to step up to keep her family together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested by Valleygirl and GoingInMotions (and others) for a viable Shane/Lori romance. Will also fill Veronica's request for alternate quarry leadership.
> 
> Trigger warning: deals with acute grief surrounding the death of a loved one.
> 
> First Chapter is identical to the draft chapter posted on the Bunny Farm, but there are series notes that may be new if you read the End Notes.

_“The grenade moment. Life has been trundling along and then, bang, with no warning, it explodes. Something makes your soul cry out, whacks you in the stomach with an iron bar, makes you feel that some outside agency has reached a fist into you, unfurling angry fingers and tearing your heart from your body. Life has changed forever; perhaps it has now become unlivable.”_

_“That’s what the grenade moment does. It separates the old life from the new and there will forever be a divide. The blade has come down. Life as we knew it has been detached, truncated. What lies on the other side is both unknowable and unthinkable.”_

_From A Manual for Heartache by Cathy Rentzenbrink_

** June 3, 2010 **

_Sometimes I wonder if you even care about us at all._

That's the last thing Lori Grimes said to her husband before a rogue gunman put him in a coma. It was a petty fight, borne of weeks of the near silent treatment after a prior petty fight that she can't even remember the details of. She knew the second those horrible words left her mouth that she crossed a line she might not be able back up from.

Rick's beautiful, expressive blue eyes clouded over with a hurt worse than if she had just picked up the empty egg pan off the stovetop and smacked him in the head with it. What she did was made worse when he stopped looking at her and focused on Carl.

Their son just stared at them, his fork forgotten next to his breakfast plate. There hadn't been time to apologize for her words, because Rick's radio crackled to life and summoned him away. She hates that fucking radio.

It's wrong, she knows. She's a cop's wife, and it's supposed to be an honor that your husband protects the community and keeps it safe. But all those people who would glare at her and judge don't understand the reality of a husband always on call and never home. They don't have to explain to a disappointed kid over and over why his dad is never at school events, because the sheriff's a lazy ass who can't keep enough reserve deputies to actually respect days off.

She didn't get a chance to make it right. Instead, she got Shane Walsh stepping out of a squad car looking like his entire world ended. That's how she knew it was bad, long before she stepped foot inside the hospital and heard terms like flail chest and internal bleeding.

Nothing on this planet scared Shane, and he was rocked to his very core.

Now she's packing belongings, trying to figure out what is a necessity and what isn't. The world's been on a fast slide to hell since Rick was shot, as if taking his light out of the world is poisoning it irreversibly. There's cannibalism in the streets, combined with people dying by the thousands from what cannot be the flu the government claimed it was.

Her life is doing another about face today, this one heralded by Shane in that goddamned patrol car the same as the other. It's Leon as the fallen officer this time, and the young idiot won't get surgery and a coma he can't wake up from. King County is no longer safe, and Shane is doing what his partner can't: taking them to Atlanta.

She does her best to ignore the worn duffel by the back door that holds all Shane feels he needs to leave the only county he's ever called home.

"Carl! I still don't see a single bag of yours in the kitchen yet!" she calls down the hall as she drags the luggage set down from the attic. They spent a small fortune on the luggage and then used it for exactly one vacation down to the Gulf. There were always work obligations that kept them close, and you didn't need good luggage to camp at the state park.

"I can't figure out what to take."

Exasperated and feeling overwhelmed, Lori leaves the luggage on her bed and goes to see what the problem is. As she expects, he's not stuck on packing clothes, but toys.

"Take half of your comics and whatever you would usually pack if we were going to Grandma's in Atlanta. Use your school backpack." Not that they'll see Lori's mother this time. She went into the hospital at Grady two days ago, and the news wasn't good the last time Lori could get someone on the phone.

Rather than get to the refugee center and find her son packed shirts and no underwear, or something equally chaotic, she drags open the top drawer of his dresser and grabs all the socks and underwear, dumping them into Rick's old gear bag for work. Slamming the drawer shut, she works her way down the dresser, filling the bag with shirts, pants, and a couple pairs of shorts that can double as pajamas.

"Carl, honey, you've got to pack. If you don't, we'll leave without anything but your clothes." She shoulders the bag she packed, eyeing where Carl has his comics out, but he's just sitting still.

"Shane went to check on Dad, right?" he mumbles.

"Oh, Carl." Lori kneels to put her arms around her son. "Dad's going to be airlifted to Atlanta with the other patients who can't be discharged, remember? He'll be to Atlanta before we are, I bet."

"Alright." Carl nudges a plastic sheathed copy of an old Superman comic. "This one used to be Dad's. Would it be okay to take anyway?"

As much as she wants to tell him they'll be back soon, she can't promise that. "Why don't you take all of the ones your Dad gave you and your favorites of the rest?"

Permission given to take the more fragile copies, he actually smiles. Once she's confident he's packing, she leaves him to it, taking his bag to the kitchen. The pantry is another task she has to tackle, and she resists the urge to break something in frustration and fear.

Instead, she unzips the nested suitcases on her bed, starting a mental tally of what space should be reserved for clothes versus other essentials. There's no telling what supplies they'll have access to at a refugee center. She keeps remembering the disasters around Hurricane Katrina and how poorly the government prepared without a nationwide disaster to stretch resources thin.

With that in mind, she takes the smallest suitcase to the bathroom. She packs away every last hygiene item, the ones in use and the extras, filling the bag. It's the first time she's really appreciated Rick's embarrassment at being sent down the feminine hygiene aisle, because she's got two completely unopened packs of 96 tampons thanks to him swearing off going ever again.

It isn't until she zips the bag that she realizes she packed Rick's things by habit. Shaving gel, razor and replacement blades, and that hard to find 2-in-1 shampoo he loves. She hesitates, thinking maybe she should leave it behind, but zips the bag instead. Rick won't need it in the hospital, but maybe one day soon he will.

It takes two trips to pack bath towels, not the good ones, but the beach towels and the older ones she keeps for times the sink leaks or the time Carl put liquid dish detergent in the dishwasher. She tosses the big pack of toilet paper in the direction of the bed.

She's just dumped the contents of her underwear drawer in a suitcase when she hears the back door slam.

"Carl, stay in your room a minute while I talk to your mama." She can hear Shane getting closer as he speaks, and Carl replies with an easy affirmative. He always listens to Shane, better than both parents most days.

When Shane shuts the door behind him, he's shaking like a leaf, and he looks like his world just ended. Her hands feel numb as she drops the handful of socks she's holding on top of her bras and panties. She can think of only one thing on this planet that would make the normally brash, carefree man in front of her break down like this.

"Shane?" she says softly, forcing her feet to work and propel her across the room. His legs give way before she reaches him, and he slides to the floor with a thud of his ass impacting on the hardwood floor.

"Shane. Talk to me, please." She isn't sure why she's begging for words to confirm what she suspects. It would be better to delay confirming the horrible truth that is crawling out of the dark abyss in the back of her mind.

When she kneels between his feet, she can see that he's crying, great silent sobs wracking his big form. She can't figure out why he's suppressing sound until she remembers he asked Carl to stay in his room. Whether he doesn't want Carl to see him cry, or he wants the boy to have a few precious more moments of not feeling this gut churning grief, Lori doesn't know.

She reaches for Shane as the tide bursts for herself. She wants to keen and wail, so all of the sorrow gripping her can escape. But it would terrify her son, and she can't do that.

Instead, she rocks on her knees, Shane's head held to her shoulder. His hands are gripped into the back of her shirt so hard she feels the thin fabric give way. She can't tell who is making the choking sound, a hyperventilation of breath dragged into airways clogged by tears.

She can't tell how much time passes from when her mind understood the terrible truth and when the world creeps back in slowly. She can hear birds outside, those damned doves that have been roosting in the neighbor's hanging flower pot, cooing on like the world didn't just spin right out of orbit for the three people in this house.

Her fingers ache, and she slowly relaxes them from where she inadvertently buried them in Shane's dark hair. It had to hurt like hell, but he seems too lost to his grief to care.

"Shane?" She tries again, and he responds to her words this time, lifting his head to look at her. He can't seem to find his voice, dark eyes searching her face.

"Rick's dead, isn't he?" she says gently, providing the words the usually eloquent man can't manage. It leaves a sour taste in her mouth, as if she's bitten into a rotten lemon.

"I don't know how the world works without him." Shane's voice sounds strained and hoarse. She wonders if he screamed it gone in the privacy of his patrol car. She knows she would, if she had somewhere Carl wouldn't hear her.

She doesn't know either. As bad as things got sometimes, the worst she ever imagined was a divorce with stilted conversations about Carl until he went off to college. Maybe in that scenario, she would go back to college and finish her art degree, and Rick would marry some sweet faced thing that didn't mind being tied to a cop's schedule.

There was never a moment where she imagined her life wouldn't have Rick going about his day somewhere in the world.

To buy time to find the right words, she wipes at her face with the sleeve of her overshirt. Shane's sitting bonelessly against the door, still in his full deputy gear. His eyes track the motion of her arm, but there's no real spark behind them right now. She tugs her shirttail free and gently dries his face.

He allows the tender attention with a malleability that frightens her. Shane's always been so boisterous and full of motion, a hurricane of a man in a world that better appreciates the gentility of men like Rick. It's another sign of the world gone crazy, that his brightness is so dim it's nearly snuffed out.

"Carl." She watches a flicker of interest return. It's a magic word, so she repeats it and expands upon it. "Carl needs you."

It's both selfish and not, for her to set the hook deep in this grieving man's heart and tie his lifelong dependence on Rick Grimes to his son instead. Shane needs to be needed, and even without the dead walking around them, Carl needs Shane.

He takes a deep breath, expanding that wide chest of his, and jerks his head in acceptance. He finally frees his hands from their fabric straining grip on her shirt. "How do we tell him?"

Lori rocks back on her heels, eyes going unfocused as she looks toward Carl's room on the other side of her bathroom. She worries at her bottom lip while she thinks.

"We don't, not til we're on the road." She knows her son, and if she tells him now, he will demand proof, to see his father's body. There's no way in hell he's going near the hospital with how one by one medical facilities have been overrun. She stopped taking him for visits three days ago because of the risk.

"What do you need me to do?"

Shane sounds like a lost little boy, and she locks away her own pain so she can plan what comes next. "Get changed, if you want. Your duffel's near the back door."

She gets to her feet, wincing at the pain of blood flow returning to her lower legs. "Then we pack and we go to Atlanta. We keep Carl safe. That's what we do."

He lumbers upright, fingers already going for fastenings to strip away police gear he no longer needs. His eyes aren't so blank anymore, now that he's got a goal. "I'll keep you both safe," he promises.

Lori nods. She has no doubt that he'll protect Carl to his dying breath. If that devotion happens to keep her safe, too, because Carl needs a mother, she won't turn it down.

Shane opens the door, disappearing without a word to do as she suggested.

Rick would come back to haunt her if she didn't make sure Shane survives losing him as much as she looks after Carl. Many times, when she was at her lowest confidence, she used to think her husband loved the other man more than he did her. If Rick had lived in a world less hung up on ideas of proper masculinity and acceptable sexuality, she suspects he might have chosen differently in who wore the gold band that matched his own.

They've lost the lynch pin that holds them all together, and now it's her job to carve herself into Rick's replacement and keep the family from being lost in the storm.

She doesn't know if she's strong enough. This is the reality she's always faced, that one day all the years of fearing Rick's death in the line of duty would end the way a cop's wife's nightmares always do. She feels inadequate to the task set before her, but she can't waiver, even if her emotions threaten to overwhelm her.

Lori reaches for the pillow Rick hasn't slept on in ten days and muffles her scream. Then she breathes in the fading scent of her husband, letting it linger in her senses. She allows herself one final broken sob before she places the pillow back where it belongs.

Later, when everything is packed, and Shane is vibrating with fear and tension because he's had to put down two of the things that were once her neighbors while they packed her SUV to overflowing, she steps into the bedroom one last time.

That pillow is the only one left on the bed, and she finds she can't leave it behind. Gathering it in her arms, she lets the last traces of his cologne give her strength for what lies ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Grenade Series: three parallel stories, filling multiple requests: Rick's nurse - who is/was she - and could she live, combined with a viable Shane/Lori story actually set in the ZA. Also requested - Daryl/Michonne, Merle/Princess.
> 
> This series will contain references to homophobia (especially internalized homophobia) typical to small town Southern culture due to a past relationship between Shane and Rick during their late teens and college years.
> 
> Life is Unthinkable: Without Rick's arrival, the quarry group will face a different future and strategy. The grief and emotions behind the Shane/Lori pairing will be explored in their parallel story and how they, Carl, and the others of the quarry survive without the miracle of Rick's return. It'll backtrack to the fall of King County, opening with Shane's efforts to take Lori and Carl to safety.
> 
> Primary POVs: Shane and Lori.
> 
> Pairings (as of 12 Aug): Shane/Lori. Eventual Carol/Ezekiel.
> 
> Group Members Planned (as of 12 Aug): Shane, Lori, Carl, Carol, Sophia, T-Dog, Glenn, Dale, Andrea, Amy, Jacqui, Jim, Eastman.
> 
> This completely ignores any of the webisodes as canon. Larger scale plots like the Governor will probably be disregarded entirely. Characters from any season may be fair game. This will go pretty far afield on the AU stage, I think. As with all of my stories, the children actually featured in the show live or flashback will not die (with the possible exception of Abraham's children).
> 
> All three groups will eventually end up on the Georgia Coast near/on the Golden Isles around the time of Judith's birth. Eventually will include selected Kingdom-based characters (definitely Ezekiel, Jerry, Benjamin, Henry, and Dianne), some Alexandrians (likely Aaron, Eric, Denise, Olivia, and Spencer), as well as Jesus (Paul).
> 
> Chapter 2 Note: It will post later today, but I wanted to go ahead and queue this out from the Bunny Farm. :)
> 
> Valleygirl, GoingInMotions, Veronica: If you want the work tagged to your username (if any), please let me know and I'll add it.


	2. Protectiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The people at the quarry camp settle in as best they can while Atlanta still burns, and Lori's curiosity leads her to the secret she really already knew resided between her husband and Shane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This tricky little beast of a chapter has been an off and on thing for a solid week.
> 
> Trigger warning: admission of a past homophobic attack made on Shane in the latter half.

** June 4, 2010 **

Every time Lori thinks she’s seen the craziest thing happen, it seems the world has to one up itself. They didn’t make it to Atlanta, saved by a traffic jam that nearly drove Shane mad to be trapped in. Watching as the helicopters dropped napalm onto the very city the government told citizens was a safe haven may feature in her nightmares for years.

Backtracking to the quarry campground seemed the only solution possible once Atlanta was gone. No one wants to return to their homes, to towns overrun by the dead. If the government couldn’t hold a major city like Atlanta, how on Earth could understaffed and underfunded locals ever hope to combat the horror?

That first night, there was little conversation to be had as Shane fell into familiar ‘cop mode’ and directed those that arrived at the quarry into setting up camp. She thinks maybe two or three families here ever saw a tent outside of television before they came here. Most have no gear at all, just enough clothes to get by, because they trusted the refugee camp would take care of all the extras.

Shane ended up giving his personal tent to house some of the single men. What little sleep he managed last night was on his sleeping bag on the floor of Lori and Carl’s tent. Lori knows how little he slept, because her body refused to rest until she could lay eyes on him.

After a day to get things organized beyond safe places to sleep and patrols of those few armed men that made it to the quarry, she hopes the man will allow himself a moment or two for himself. The unexpected side effect of the ongoing camp mentality that pairs her off with Shane somehow is that the men’s response to follow her late husband’s partner triggers the women to look to Lori for direction.

Part of her wants to laugh at the irony of women like Andrea who would normally snub someone like Lori for being nothing more than a housewife asking her what to do. Cop’s wife seems to give Lori some sort of imagined expertise in the women’s eyes. But when she sees the signs that Shane is riding one hell of a razor’s edge, torn between grief and responsibility, she knows it’s another burden she needs to shoulder. She can’t take the security concerns off him, but the women? She can sideline them.

At least tonight, the firepit is actually set up to cook on, so they will manage a more substantial meal than last night, where various folks contributed things that didn’t need to be cooked and most of it went to the children of the camp. The cookfire has a tripod now, suspending a cast iron pot big enough to cook a group meal.

“Sure would be nice if we had more than kitchen sink stew for these kids,” Jacqui mutters as she passes Lori another can. 

Lori grimaces as she tips the can of mixed vegetables into the pot. “Once the fires die down, maybe they can get down into the city.”

All day, when the wind shifts just right, they can smell the acrid, chemical scent of the smoke out of Atlanta. Shane led a trip to see what could be determined by daylight. All the men that went with him came back pale and near mute. He just shook his head when Lori approached, not wanting to talk, but they at least went far enough to find some abandoned convenience store and clear it out.

“T-Dog offered his church van up for a food pantry. Thought it might be a poetic use for it.” Jacqui hands her a can of English peas this time.

“Might ask him to park it in as much shade as he can then. Probably not real good for the cans to broil inside it all closed up.” Lori drops the empty can into the bag Shane gave her for empty cans. He needs them for the perimeter system the men came up with. “How much do we have?”

The older woman finishes opening a can of carrots to hand off before she picks up a composition notebook the younger of the Harrison sisters donated to the cause. “With what they brought back from that gas station? Maybe two or three days worth with the amount of mouths we got to feed.”

“It would figure that we end up with a collection of city folks and no diehard hunters,” Lori says. She eyes the level of vegetables in the pot and gives it a stir.

“Your man doesn’t hunt? He sure looks the type. Thought country cops got into that whole putting Bambi and Thumper on the dinner table routine.”

Despite the tenseness of the situation, Lori giggles. “He does, but he didn’t bring his gear, since we expected to be in a government facility. He wasn’t even sure they would allow his service weapons.” The Mossberg could be used for hunting, but she knows he doesn’t have much ammo to spare. She looks to where Shane is helping unload water in a hodgepodge of containers near another fire where poor mousy Carol is in charge of boiling it. But he isn’t my man, not like that. Shane was my late husband’s partner in the sheriff’s department.”

“Oh.” Jacqui gives her that sympathetic look that most people have been giving her since Rick was shot, the one that Lori both dreads and appreciates in equal measure. She can see the woman make the connection with the department logo T-shirt Shane’s wearing. “Wait a minute. There was a rural county deputy shot a few weeks ago, right before the virus reports took over the news.”

“Eleven days ago. May twenty-fourth.” Lori finds herself rotating her engagement band around her finger, still having a hard time vocalizing the rest. “He died before they could transport him to Atlanta when they closed our local hospital.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that. The news never reports recoveries, so when they didn’t report him dying, I just hoped for the best.”

Lori gives a quick jerk of her head. Jacqui lets the subject drop, thankfully, and they finish getting together something that will at least weigh down everyone’s stomachs for the night.

She’s laying on the air mattress in her tent a few hours later, listening to the quiet male voices over near Dale’s RV. Tonight, at least, won’t be half the men up and patrolling. She is just not sure when Shane’s going to slot himself into the watch cycle he’s ordering the men into who say they know how to use Dale’s rifle. The retiree seems happy enough to stay atop the RV during the day, but he has to sleep sometime.

The sound of the zipper makes her raise up to her elbows, as she sees the dim outline of Shane’s wide shoulders as he ducks inside. 

“Just me coming to bed,” Shane says in the darkness. “Gonna take the dawn watch. Carl get to sleep okay?”

“Yeah. Cried a while, but he settled in.” Telling Carl about his father’s death on the road to Atlanta is the hardest thing Lori’s ever done in her life. Unlike the adults left bereft by Rick’s absence, the boy vocalized his grief long and hard in the car, sending her and Shane into quiet tears of their own.

Tonight wasn’t as rough for Carl, and Lori wishes she had the resilience of youth, where grief comes in raging torrents but then fades back to allow you to feel like there’s daylight at the end of the tunnel. All day, it’s been like there’s a suffocating cloak around her, that sense that the world can never right itself again. She’s been plagued by phantom glimpses that make her jerk and look for Rick only to remind her that she will never see him again.

There’s just enough light from the waning moon that Lori can make out that Shane is kneeling next to Carl’s cot. She wonders if he is listening to the boy breathe like she did once Carl fell asleep, even as he leans forward and kisses the top of the boy’s head. Shane probably needs the reminder that not all of Rick is gone as much as she does.

“If he needs me, even if I’m on watch, come get me,” Shane says as she hears the dull thud of boots coming off his feet and being shoved somewhere. 

“I will.” She rolls to her stomach on the air mattress, feeling a little more settled now that Shane’s inside the tent and not somewhere unknown outside. The sounds of the man finishing getting ready to sleep sooth her, and she falls asleep.

How much time passes between that welcome slumber and her waking again, Lori isn’t sure, but she lies alert, trying to determine why she woke up with her body screaming for urgency. Shane’s still in the tent, so it isn’t near dawn yet, although she isn’t sure what hour his dawn watch actually begins. Carl seems to be sleeping soundly, even snoring just a little, but that is a common enough sound from her son that it shouldn’t be what woke her.

It isn’t until Carl’s snoring makes him grumble and turn over that the tent is quiet enough to finally let her determine what’s out of place.

He’s quiet about it, just like he was back in her bedroom, but Shane is crying.

The layout of the tent places the man closer to her than Carl, his sleeping bag at the foot of her mattress nearest the tent’s entrance. As quiet as she can manage on the air mattress, she gets to her knees and crawls toward him. He’s rolled toward the exterior, tucked into a fetal position, so all she can really see is his shoulders, which nearly convulse as her eyes adjust enough to make out more detail.

When she lays a hand gently on the nape of his neck, the soft sound that escapes him breaks her heart. Unsure how to best comfort him, she drops to her belly on her air mattress and strokes her fingers through his hair like she would Carl. Her own tears escape, but she can’t really say if they’re for her own sense of loss or for the man curled tightly into himself that it’s the first time she ever thought he looked small.

Eventually, he’s quiet, but she keeps up the rhythmic petting of his hair. It’s softer than she expected, not as silky and baby fine as Rick’s, but still with just enough curl to make her yearn for an entirely different texture under her fingers.

“M’sorry.” It’s barely audible when Shane speaks, although she suspects they could have an entire marching band through here and not wake Carl. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Lori drops her hand to his shoulder at last, squeezing it lightly. “Don’t apologize for this, Shane. Not for missing him.”

He uncurls slowly, yanking the tail of his T-shirt up to dry his face. “He would want me to be strong for you and Carl.”

Considering how many times she held her own grief at bay today with a similar mantra, she understands. But she pushes lightly on his shoulder, making him roll to his back where she can get some idea of his expression. Shane blinks up at her, looking torn between ashamed and confused.

“Being strong doesn’t mean you can’t grieve, Shane, or that you have to do it all by yourself. Does it make me weak to be crying right now? Or crying with Carl earlier?” She can feel the itchy film of drying tears on her skin even as she speaks.

“Of course not.” 

She crosses her arms under her chin to proper on her forearms. “We’re all the family Carl has left, Shane. You don’t need to hide it when you’re hurting.”

Shane takes a deep breath, one hand coming up to rub across his face. “I’ll try. Might take some getting used to.”

They fall silent for long enough that she wonders if he’s falling asleep. With her engagement ring and wedding band brushing against her cheek, she wonders if Shane might answer the question she’s always wanted to ask. It is probably wrong to take advantage of his vulnerability, but the small, ugly voice she tries her hardest to ignore is stronger in the dark than it ever is during the day.

“How long have you been in love with Rick?” she asks, hoping her face is more shadowed than Shane’s is with the angle of the inadequate moonlight.

She expects a denial or even to piss him off, but instead, she sees a tear escape. “All my damned life,” Shane says huskily. “But I was sixteen when I figured out it wasn’t the kind of love that was gonna be acceptable where we lived.”

Damn. The impact digs right into that insecure place inside her that always knew. She doesn’t really need to ask how Rick felt, because that’s the undercurrent that flowed beneath her marriage for more years than Lori wants to admit she knew it was there.

When she reaches out to cup her hand against his cheek, he flinches, and that makes her regret asking. He expected her to slap him for the admission, but he made it anyway.

She rubs her thumb along the heavy stubble on his chin, using her fingers to stroke his cheek. He’s confused as hell by her tenderness, she can tell. “Did y’all ever…”

Shane swallows hard. “Yeah. Not after he met you.”

“What happened?” It’s a bit masochist of her, wanting such details, but maybe it is safe to have them now, because she’ll never face the decision she would have when Rick was alive.

“We screwed up and got caught Thanksgiving break our senior year of college.” Shane leans into her touch enough that she drops her other hand down and cups the other side of his face, too. He shudders, but she isn’t sure if it’s her touching him or a memory that brings on the movement. “By his daddy.”

“Sweet Jesus.” There’s a part of her that’s honestly surprised those long ago young men survived the explosion that must have come when her late, unlamented, holy roller father-in-law found out his oldest son was in love with another man.

But it adds more missing pieces to a picture she’s always done her best to ignore. Before her father-in-law died of a massive heart attack in his office one day six years ago, she never saw Shane Walsh at the elder Grimes’ house. It’s a juxtaposition, because just about every candid photo in Evelyn Walsh’s photo albums were Rick-and-Shane, never Rick solo, all the way back to diapered toddlers riding tricycles in the Grimes’s well manicured backyard.

She does remember Shane standing on the porch in the rain the day of the old man’s funeral, head bowed even as Evelyn held his hands and prayed over him. He never ventured inside.

Even Richard Senior’s death didn’t release Shane from his banishment.

“Don’t think Jesus had much input that day,” Shane says. He catches her hand with the rings and rubs one thumb over the backside of the paired bands. “Because I’m pretty sure all those years I sat in their church pew told me Jesus forgives.”

The timing is even more haunting when she finishes assembling her mental puzzle. She remembers being a wide eyed freshman at college, baffled by the sudden invitation to a party the first weekend of the second semester from a boy in her world history class. Jeffrey Grimes never looked at her twice when they shared four out of five general education required courses the first semester. But he had pretty eyes and seemed interesting, so she accompanied him to the off campus party where he introduced her to his brother.

Looking back, she thinks that was the plan all along. She feels a spark of anger at the guilt she felt for being far more interested in the older brother than the younger, guilt she thinks was probably misplaced now. It’s something she’ll never know for sure, since Jeffrey was somewhere in Europe when the outbreak happened, unable to make it home.

That ugly little part of her that remembers the damned stick with two pink lines that changed her future from her art degree to housewife eight weeks later wonders for the first time if that was planned, too. What better way to prove to a Bible thumping father you’ve given up your sinful path with your boyfriend than a pregnant girlfriend?

She doesn’t like that thought, and her better nature, the one that knows Rick loved her as best he could, prevails. There’s no way he could have planned for Lori to fall victim to the round of flu that swept through her dorm and the accompanying three days of vomiting that screwed up her birth control. 

“All those women, those for show?” Lori asks at last, when Shane starts to stiffen a little under her touch when she stays quiet.

“Little bit. Like ladies just fine, Lori. Never found another man worth looking at after Rick.” He drags her fingers into his hairline, letting her feel scar tissue hidden beneath the curls. She’s seen him with his hair buzzed before, after he and Rick finished their police training, and the scar is long and prominent. “Was the safest way to keep Senior from deciding he didn’t put enough fear of God into us back then.”

“Into you, I think you mean.” Rick bore no such scars.

Shane just closes his eyes and doesn’t answer. 

She wriggles forward to press a kiss against his forehead. “I really hope Senior’s idea of heaven and hell exists, Shane, because right now I hope he is the main attraction for demonstrating all the fire and brimstone tortures he raved about.” 

And a full eternity away from Rick, because there’s no God Lori wants to consider that wouldn’t deliver her kindhearted husband to a heavenly reward.

Shane leans into the press of her lips, covering her hands on his face with his own. “He did love you, Lori. You and Carl were the center of his world.”

Lori draws back enough that she can see his eyes and smiles wistfully. “Not just us.”

She eases back onto the air mattress, but captures one of his hands in hers. “Get some sleep, Shane.”

He presses their clasped hands over his heart and closes his eyes. It doesn’t take long for him to doze off, and he never lets go of her hand.

It leaves Lori to watch him for a while as his chest rises and falls beneath their hands. She never really expected to be the one watching over Shane, rather than the other way around. A sense of fierce protectiveness settles in, and she feels the mantle of grief recede enough that she can breathe easily for the first time in days.

Shane isn’t the only one who can keep left behind pieces of Rick’s heart safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whether you view Rick and Shane's relationship as platonic or romantic, there's little doubt that Shane loved Rick to the exclusion of himself. The admission that he was suicidal after Rick's apparent death (in their conversation in 18 Miles Out) only reinforces that. 
> 
> I've given that love a much larger scope in this, dwelling on the absolute reality that many young men face, especially in the Bible Belt: conform or else. There will come a time with Shane's POV that probably will expand upon it even further than what he is willing to initially share with Lori. I've met many men like Senior in my life, and they never fail to terrify me that hatred like that exists in the world.
> 
> Even though they will eventually find Rick, there's no planned future for Rick with either of them, not romantically.
> 
> The ladies seem to be dominating this series so far. I promise eventually Lori will allow Shane to drive the story for a chapter.


	3. Hers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lori and Shane's relationship shifts beyond the initial agreement to stay united in raising Carl.

** June 14, 2010 **

By the time they're two weeks into the time at the quarry, Lori has determined that it was a good thing she never became a cop because she doesn't have the temperament to deal with idiocy politely. You would think in a Southern state like Georgia, they would have more than three or four people who actually spent time outdoors. Maybe it's because people with those sorts of skills didn't head toward a city refugee center. Honestly, she doesn't think Shane would have, left to his own devices.

The original division of things - that the men look to Shane for direction and by default the women look to Lori - is holding true. She should enjoy the attention and responsibility. Instead, it just makes her anxious and tired. Too many people spend more energy bitching about what they don't have, and not enough just getting things over with.

They cleared all the businesses on the outskirts of the city of supplies, relying on Glenn's nimble self for forays into Atlanta proper once the worst of the burning stopped. The kid can't do much when he goes, using alleys and rooftops for safe travel, but he's gotten them essentials beyond food and scouted how far in Shane can safely send teams.

"You look like you're thinking mighty hard," Jacqui says, dropping a basket of wet laundry next to the line across from where Lori's hanging clothes. The first shirt she lifts onto the line looks like one of T-Dog's, and Lori marvels at how the men wriggle out of this chore even as she clips one of Shane's shirts to her own drying line.

"Just wondering how long we can sustain a camp here."

"It's only been two weeks since Atlanta fell. Figured eventually the government will come back to check on it. We've got the CDC here, after all."

"Maybe. Just got a bad feeling, I guess." Optimistic thinking has never been Lori's strong point. Her life before she dropped out of college to have Carl didn't give her the background for it, and married life ended what little sparks might be left.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, they think they can get in that food bank warehouse. Saw Shane and Morales sketching out a plan for access."

It'll be a relief if they can, since the already raided stores safe enough to reach only keep them a day or two ahead of no food at all. She knows that assholes like Ed Peletier have stashes they didn't volunteer to share while still eating the group's food. Shane caught Carol burying the evidence of MRE packaging just far enough in the woods to make him nervous she might get lost.

Shane elected to ignore it, not wanting to make life harder for Carol and Sophia. It's not like Ed's feeding the female Peletiers the MREs. Carol admitted that much when Shane showed her a dead tree closer to camp that she could use as a trash can instead.

"That will make meals easier, I bet. Now if Glenn can find a place with ammo, we'll be better off."

Not that the few who know how to hunt can do so nearby. Firing a weapon close to camp is a risk no one really wants to take. Plus, she doubts anything they want to eat will come close with the noises and smells of people. Shane already warned her that the overpopulated squirrels are soon to join their menu.

Hanging the last of her basket, she rechecks to make sure Carl's jeans are secure and sighs. "Gonna go raid that berry patch. Probably not enough for everyone left, but could get some extra vitamins into the kids. Will you watch Carl?"

Jacqui nods, looking over to where the four children in camp are playing a card game Dale taught them. "Be careful."

"Always."

It doesn't take long to drop off her laundry basket at the tent and grab a bucket instead. To be extra careful, she tells Dale where she's headed, asking him to keep an eye on Carl, too. Her son is still subdued and less mischievous than usual, but eventually he'll get bored and get creative, she thinks.

Following the barely there trail to the blueberry patch thriving in a sunny clearing, she takes care to look for the scraps of old t-shirt tied periodically along the path. A week of raiding the berries lessens their bounty, but the subtle reminders not to get lost that Shane tied along the way makes her smile.

It takes about ten minutes to work her way through the patch, gleaning what's ripened since she came down here two days ago. A hard snap behind her makes her crouch and reach for the small knife Shane insists she carry in one boot.

"Just me, Lori. Didn't mean to scare you." Shane looks a little sheepish. "But glad to see you go for the knife."

She realizes he stepped on the stick deliberately, because despite his size and typically loud disposition, in the woods, Shane is generally as easy footed as the wildlife. Standing, she smiles to let him know it's alright and retrieves her bucket.

"Have any luck?" he asks.

"About half a bucket. Gonna reserve them for the kids."

"Sounds good to me. Found a good patch of chanterelles on the way down we can take back, too."

On the way down means he probably took a more direct route, scouting the area like he usually does. Lori follows him uphill to his find. It doesn't take long to fill the remaining space in the bucket and to turn her loose button up into a makeshift basket.

"Were you afraid I would get lost?" she asks, suddenly curious about Shane appearing to accompany her. He is skimming the woods, and something about it makes her realize he is deliberately avoiding looking at her in the now fully exposed tank top.

It takes her a minute to remember today's layered shirt is because all her bras are hung on the laundry line back at camp. She is planning on a better laundry rotation in the future, but it got away from her in the dread of knowing washing them in the lake isn't truly clean.

The idea that he's uncomfortable has her rest a forearm in front of her chest, because there's an elephant in the room they've been ignoring.

"Shane? I think we need to talk."

The man flushes, his darker skin still prone to revealing embarrassment. He tugs at the hair on the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Lori asks, keeping her voice soft and gentle. The last thing they need is her assuming the wrong thing.

If it is what she suspects, it started innocently enough. Shane's sleeping pad isn't really meant for long term sleeping. After a week, his shoulder and hip were showing the problem of being a natural side sleeper. Carl's puzzled suggestion of why don't they just share made Lori wonder a bit whether a sweet sense of naivety can be hereditary, since he looked so much like a miniature Rick giving the solution that her heart aches to think on it.

Lori didn't honestly expect it to be a problem, sharing the air mattress. It's too hot for blankets, so Shane just stretched out on top of the top sheet next to her and went to sleep facing the tent wall. It took her longer to fall asleep, being too aware of the differences of the man next to her to drift off.

Unlike Rick, who was that ideal bedmate who never stole the covers, but also slept quietly on his back and never cuddled in the night, Shane migrates in his sleep. Lori woke before Shane's watch shift to find herself spooned against a body far broader and more solid than her husband's. It should have been jarring, especially considering one big hand was resting above her left breast. 

Instead, it's bittersweet that she's somehow his safe zone in the night, a human sized teddy bear for a man most would think fears nothing.

So she said nothing the first night or the second. Shane would wake and ease carefully away when he left for the dawn watch shift. It was too hot, really, to sleep so close, but she couldn't bring herself to bring it up.

This morning changed things. She should have expected it to happen sooner or later, because Shane's never lacked for libido. The hand that normally seems to be seeking her heartbeat wandered lower, cupping the soft swell of her breast instead. Before she could verify he's asleep or not, Shane's hips rolled against her backside, revealing his hand isn't the only part of him wanting to explore.

Reaching back, she tapped his hip and called his name softly, realizing he was having a very intense dream when he didn't respond. It took rolling to her back, which jostled the mattress, to wake him.

Dim moonlight filtered through the tent canvas didn't give her a clear look at his face, but the man's embarrassment is unmistakable. Shane mumbled an apology and left early for his watch shift. He's dodged her all morning, until now.

"For groping you like I did." He shifts his weight from foot to foot, reminding her of a boy called in front of a teacher for trouble more than a grown man facing a woman he made an unintended pass at.

"I'm guessing it was a pretty interesting dream."

As it dawns on him that she's not angry at all, she gets a bashful smile. "Not sure I remember the dream after clueing in what I was doing."

The thing is, once Shane fled the tent, Lori became aware his body wasn't the only one alert it wasn't alone in the bed. It took the better part of an hour for the arousal and accompanying guilt to fade. If she's honest, she knows it isn't specific to Shane himself. Thinking of him in that format is difficult, after so many years of him being her husband's best friend.

But things between her and Rick were platonic for months prior to her frustration boiling over with those vicious words that last morning together. Their sex life was never anything heated, not even in the early days, but since the first of the year, it's been non-existent. She knew the writing was on the wall, but her life without Rick isn't something she ever managed to bring beyond vague daydreams. 

Lori suspects her body responded as much to Shane's need to cuddle as it did to the groping. It's so damned nice to be held, to have someone touching her again. If he had asked this morning, she knows she would have allowed far more than what his dream led him to do.

Shane takes a deep breath. "I'll move back to the sleeping pad."

"Please don't."

It comes out of her mouth without thinking, as her stomach lurches at the idea of being that damned alone again. Shane is definitely shocked, because he blinks a couple of times. 

"Lori? I can't promise it won't happen again, not sleeping so close." Dark eyes search her expression.

"Would it really be so bad if it did?" Jesus. Lori's all but propositioning her late husband's best friend, two weeks after he died. In the normal world, she suspects people would preach hellfire and damnation on such a thing. She would be accused of lusting for the man before Rick died, maybe even an affair if he doesn't turn her down.

Hellfire and damnation are walking the Earth just fine without her sex life being the cause. Rick will never know to be horrified. And Carl? It's only a matter of how soon is too soon for her son. He loves Shane.

"Lori, are you sure about what you're asking?" 

It's not an immediate no, so at least she won't get the Whore of Babylon treatment from Shane for hinting she misses being intimately close to someone. Not that she expected him to be that judgemental, but knowing he loved Rick so many years the way he did, anything is possible.

"I think I am, but I need to try something before I'm sure."

Setting the bundled mushrooms down next to the bucket, she steps into his personal space. There's time and room for him to step away, so when he doesn't, she reaches up to slide her fingers along his jaw. Shane is passive other than an intake of breath, letting her explore how different his jawline is, under the black stubble he trims but doesn't shave smooth without a dress code to enforce it.

When Lori tugs to tilt his head, Shane goes along with it. The kiss is clumsy, driven by her inexperience of kissing exactly one person other than her husband, and that dating back to the ripe old age of seventeen. She doesn't have the first real clue how to get it underway with someone brand new anymore.

Just when she is about to consider it a failed experiment and apologize, Shane responds, moving to cup the back of her head and adjust the angle just slightly. He flicks his tongue along her lips, and she parts them for him. 

Even in their heady early days, Rick kissed like a gentleman, something sweet that could be plucked out of the elegant old black and white films that allowed no lust to intrude upon the illusion of loverly intrigue. Shane kisses like a force of nature, directing a focused intensity that makes her feel like she's drowning in the taste-touch-scent of him.

Lori can't help the whimper that escapes her, muffled as it is by Shane's mouth on hers. She feels him smile even as he pulls away, searching her expression.

"Okay, maybe I get it now." Shane slides his hand from the nape of her neck to her shoulder, stroking his thumb along her collarbone. With his free hand, he hooks the chain of her locket and tugs it free of her tank top. Dangling in front of them is Rick's wedding band hung next to the locket that contains his and Carl's photos.

He studies the gold band as it catches the sunlight and sparkles. "Don't think I've ever been someone's safe choice, unless it was being sure I wouldn't want any more commitment than the next weekend's plans." 

Lori catches the locket and ring, letting them rest on her open palm. "Not so much safe as knowing you won't resent he'll always be important."

All those feelings that were slowly fading from neglect and growing up beyond the two people who married too young, they're trapped now, a frozen moment in time, with grief wrapped around them like amber. She doesn't think she's capable of not loving Rick now, because death froze that lingering affection in place and somehow amplified it.

Dark eyes study the ring for a long moment before he slides it from her palm and drops the chain back inside her shirt. "Guess you'll be the first woman who ain't gonna make sly remarks about him to me."

"I don't intend to. You loved him like I loved him. That's just fact."

Shane kisses her again then, and it's more restrained as he backs her slowly toward a mossy sprawl under an oak. Calloused hands tug at her shirt, exposing her completely to the sun and his heavy-lidded gaze. Seized by a sudden, chilling shyness, Lori covers her chest. She doesn't look anything like the women that usually attract Shane.

"Lori." His voice is husky as he tugs gently at one of her wrists. She suspects he understands the hesitation. "Let me see, please." 

Looking at those intense eyes, she lets her hands slide to her waist. He explores her skin slowly, first with clever fingers and then with his warm mouth. The embers lit by the morning wakeup flare into life, and she tangles her fingers in his hair.

By the time he strips away her boots and pants, she's desperate to see him, too. She makes quick work of his buttons, exposing his chest and delighting when his body reacts to her touch. It's a power she never expected him to grant her, one she never even dreamed to have, but there's no hiding he wants this as much as she does.

When she starts on his belt buckle, he lays a hand over hers. "You absolutely sure, Lori? We don't have to."

Absolutely sure? No. She thinks she's never going to think in absolutes anymore except her love for Carl. So she answers in what she needs instead, smiling up at him and tugging that buckle loose as her answer. 

She knows from the moment he's above her, no longer a separate entity from herself, that this moment changes everything in a way she cannot anticipate. What she sees in his face, a desperate yearning to belong to someone, tells her that this man is now unrevokably hers in a way her husband never was.

They both loved Rick, but there's only his ghost as a reminder now of once divided or conflicted hearts. There will never be a turning point for Lori and Rick that ends in happiness instead of the slow slide to divorce. Shane will never watch the only person he loved refuse to ever return that love in order to keep them both safe. Those hopes are gone, plucked away from them in a hospital bed weeks after a gunman ripped Rick from their lives.

She doesn't love Shane the way she loved Rick. But that first love died over time and mutual neglect. This warmth that keeps growing in her chest each time Shane does something to care for her, it has none of the rush, the high, that she knows people associate with falling in love.

His body rocks into hers, even as she adapts to the feel of him, and even as her body cascades into whiteout pleasure and he follows, she does recognize it as being the same emotion.

There's no fall here. No explosion of heat and emotion. It isn't a fairy tale to be told time and again. It is a gradual, fragile thing that grows one moment at a time, a seedling meant to grow like the oaks around them as they lie sated.

Shane's head rises from her shoulder, and there's that old worry dwelling in his eyes. She smiles at him, drawing him in for a kiss much more forceful than she first managed. There's no question of her changing her mind now.

He's hers, he needs her, and she's allowing nothing to ever change that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not expect this to be quite so tricky a chapter, but even once the grandbaby went home, it didn't iron out quickly. Hopefully, it clicks for y'all.
> 
> Lori doesn't have the background i psychology to understand touch starvation at the base of her willingness to fall quickly for a man as tactile as Shane. I see it as an underlying issue for them both that lowers inhibitions faster than otherwise might happen.
> 
> The show never details how soon they started sleeping together, and the comics was a one night stand on the way to the quarry. For this story, it needed something more than a hasty start.


	4. A Silver Leaf Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A supply run to Atlanta unfortunately returns with everyone who left camp, and Shane and Lori consider the future.

**July 4, 2010**

Before the world went to hell, Shane Walsh would never have considered what is in the back of his mind today. Rating a member of the community as useless is one thing. But forcing Ed Peletier to go on a supply run to Atlanta with the express purpose of losing his abusive ass somehow? He guesses he isn't the first cop who fantasized of ridding the world of a wife beater.

The end of the world just gives him the opportunity to get away with it.

Ed's never gone on a group supply run. He's out of cigarettes and liquor now, and Shane made a rule that anyone feeding bad habits has to risk their own asses to supply them. The only two women who drink occasionally are more than willing to join the run team, and none of the women smoke.

Shane is pretty sure everyone going to Atlanta today knows it's aimed to put Ed in the field. He just hopes they think it's combating laziness. Watching Carol hide any more bruises just has to stop.

"Please keep in mind that being quiet is an absolute necessity. Y'all aren't in good enough shape to use the roofs and fire escapes like I do. Ground travel is risky, and the bigger the group, the more risk we'll be heard or scented."

"Why can't we just drive right up to that department store?" Ed grumbles. "Makes no damned sense to leave the truck here and walk with those fucking biters on the roam."

"Because engine noise is a sure fire way to agitate the geeks. It echoes in the city." Glenn rolls his eyes, sending a pleading look to Shane. When all he gets is a quick jerk of the head, the young man sighs. "We need to get started before something does stir them up."

Leaving the truck they rode into Atlanta on at the train tracks, they follow Glenn. Despite his normal bull in a china shop movements, Ed proves reasonably quiet. Reaching the back door Glenn jimmied open on his scouting trip, they all slip inside.

"Andrea, you and T-Dog take the second floor. Morales, you and Jacqui take the third. Marcus and I will take the fourth." Glenn's pairing of Ed with Shane is either instinctive that the kid understands Shane might be up to something, but more likely, he just doesn't trust Ed with anyone else. Smart kid.

"C'mon, Ed. Fifth floor is a hell of a climb in this heat."

The man follows, bitching. "Ain't like a department store has food or anything worth taking but clothes."

"You saying you won't appreciate shit that ain't been scrubbed to death in lake water?" No matter how hard anyone tried, there's a limit to the lifespan of modern fabric on a scrub board. Jeans seem to be the only things that do.

"Might have to agree there. Damned woman wore a hole in my favorite shirt already."

Like the fat bastard could do a better job. Shane keeps that to himself, grunting noncommittally. By the time they reach the fifth floor, he's winded and Ed sounds like he's going to stroke out. But they're on the main menswear floor at last.

"Should be some gym bags around. Make sure you grab your best stuff first, since you came. Do two bags if you like."

With the lure of looting a large amount for himself dangling, Ed catches his breath and surprises Shane by getting to work. Not wanting to waste the trip, Shane follows suit, filling two big gym bags full of packages of socks, underwear, and undershirts. Those are most versatile among the men of the group.

Ed's more selective, but he does more work than expected. Shane finds him staring down at a herd of nearly motionless walkers in the distance down a broad avenue crowded with abandoned vehicles.

"See anything interesting?"

"Just a bunch of biters looking comatose."

Shane controls the flinch at that word. The pain may be easing as more time passes, but he doesn't think the word coma will ever be an easy one to hear. 

"They do that as long as nothing stirs them up. Sometimes they wander around like lemmings, too."

Ed grunts in acknowledgement, lighting a cigarette. "Ain't gonna find more of these here. We making another stop?"

"Yeah. Gonna route around the front when we leave. Tobacco store on that street."

Shane leaves him staring to circle the floor, checking all the angles. Other than the one direction, there aren't any large crowds of the dead. He snags a selection of leather belts to add to one of his bags and a spare bag for their second stop. Even he's lost a bit of weight, and he knows not everyone has a belt with them.

"Bout done with the smoke?" he asks, looking to see Ed stub the mostly finished cigarettes out on the window ledge. He follows Shane without any grumbling.

The relative good behavior makes it harder for Shane to keep his resolve that the man has to go, and soon. There's good riddance carelessness and outright murder, and he can't bring himself to cross that line yet.

They meet the others on the ground floor, where he sees several folks have spare bags like his. "Anybody need anything from this floor?"

Looking around, he can't see anything essential, but Andrea eyes a jewelry display with longing. "It's not anything necessary."

Shane sighs. "Not everything has to be strictly useful, Andrea. This ain't North Korea."

The blonde reaches for a necklace with a guilty look. "Amy's birthday is next week."

"Good idea. She could use something cheerful for it," Jacqui comments. "Might get the little girls some headbands."

That sets everyone to roaming the flashy aisles meant to lure shoppers in, snagging small luxuries for loved ones or friends. Glenn seems to be making random selections, and when Shane arches a brow at him, the kid just smiles shyly.

"Plenty of folks don't have the chance to browse. Figured a variety for them might be nice."

That makes Shane think of Lori, and not wanting to rush the others, he drifts toward the earrings. It's a safe gift, he thinks, even with their relationship far beyond friendship now. He buys her some goofy set of earrings every year for her birthday, after all.

That's not for months, not until nearly Christmas. Thinking of the way she feels curled against him at night, Shane drops his hand away from the bright neon feathers that would normally be perfect. In their old life, Lori would wear them once or twice as a lark and then disappear them into that antique jewelry box for eternity.

Jacqui nudges him, speaking quietly. "She likes silver best."

It startles him into giving the older woman a guilty look. Lori didn't want Carl knowing, not yet, and to be honest, they both know they're moving too fast, too soon. He feels like taking their relationship public will somehow cause it to flounder.

Shane is screwing his best friend's widow, after all, and Rick just a month dead. The lingering guilt doesn't stop him from craving the comfort of her against him at night. For the first time since he had to give up Rick back in college, it isn't the forgetfulness of orgasms he's chasing.

"No crime in needing someone, especially with the world the way it is," Jacqui continues. Her smile is kind when he looks at her. "What you two are starting, used to be common enough. Who was better to raise orphaned children than their lost parent's sibling?"

Shane supposes she's correct on that. He also knows a couple of police widows who remarried inside a year or two to another officer. Their situation may be more complex with Shane's own emotions, since his love for Rick never quite faded to brotherly.

"Silver, you say?" His voice sounds strange to his own ears. Scanning the displays, he finds tiny silver leaves. Remembering that day under the oaks, Shane tucks them in a pocket with a quiet thank you to Jacqui.

Carl's easier, because there's a display of those quirky interlocking puzzles that he knows will intrigue the boy. He likes to fiddle with things, especially if they have a mechanical bent to them. Watching Ed ignore the baubles and jewelry, he slips a second puzzle into his pocket for Sophia.

"Everyone about done?" Shane calls out. There's a chorus of agreement. They're out the front door quietly, picking their way down the street to the half looted tobacco store. Shane and Jacqui stand guard outside after Shane gives his spare bag to T-Dog.

"So what's the plan about Ed?" Jacqui asks, stepping as close as she did in the department store.

"I don't know." He sighs, sparing a look inside the store where most are searching for anything useful among the debris since it's not just tobacco products in there. Ed is gleefully finishing off the space in his bag with pouches of tobacco since all the cartons of cigarettes are gone.

"He's being careful right now. Squeezing her arm too hard or jerking her around a bit. But you and I both know it will escalate."

"Yeah." He thinks of every domestic he ever tackled as a deputy, and how Ed ranks right up there in the scale of violent capability. Lori eyes the man like he's a rabid animal, and that makes his gut churn even more. One day he needs to know why she's wary of Ed, because he knows damn well Rick's not the type.

"I wish we could get Carol to move out of his tent. That would provoke him, but it would be easier."

Shane thinks she's right. It's Lori's suggestion, too, but purposely setting off a violent man in a camp full of innocents seems a step too far. "I was hoping he would be an idiot on the run, but he's actually been sensible."

"Could leave him behind and hope he's directionally challenged."

Shane covers his laugh with a cough, shaking his head. "We'll figure it out somehow."

The problem plagues him all the way to the truck. Ed's mood is pleasantly mellow from the stash he's getting to keep, and even as he sprawls in the bed of the truck next to Shane, he looks cartoonishly satisfied.

"Think you had the right idea, deputy, me fetching my own needs. Count me in for the next trip."

Exchanging a knowing look with Jacqui, the vague plan settles into place. With enough trips, the cocky asshole will get overconfident and fuck up. They just have to be careful not to put anyone else at risk.

Back at camp, Shane goes to find Lori to detail how the trip went. She sighs as she thinks over the Ed situation.

"Maybe we ladies can gang up on Carol. Miranda can get Sophia to stay the night with Eliza."

"Not sure leaving her all alone with him is an improvement," Shane ventures, thinking of what things Ed might consider without his daughter in the tent. "Smacking her around isn't the worst he can do."

Lori looks horrified at the thought. "Shit. You think he would force her?"

"He strikes me as the type of man who thinks his marriage license is a property certificate for Carol. Don't think she would risk saying no, either."

Lori paces the tent, hands fisted in her shirttail. "There's nothing we can do?"

"Not without Carol's cooperation. Long as she'll fight us on it, it's going to piss him off and she'll suffer for it. He doesn't seem to be hurting Sophia. He crosses that line, he's a dead man."

"We can't stay here past the summer, and Atlanta is getting harder to get supplies, right?"

"Yeah. You thinking of leaving and taking them with us?" They've stayed for the safety of a group, so far.

"Not just us and them, but others if they'll come. Not everyone thinks the government is coming to save us."

Shane thinks over their people, thinking most of the group Glenn took into Atlanta probably would leave if the plan is good enough. The camp numbers two dozen, at least half of whom won't budge. But even if it's only six or so, that's enough to keep the kids safe while they travel.

"Where to? Fort Benning?" Surely one of the largest military installations in the east survived.

"What are the odds they'll take in more mouths to feed? If they're still out there, they aren't looking for survivors to take in."

It's hard logic, but she's probably right. "Then where?"

"These things can't swim, right?"

It falls into place. "You're thinking of the old beach house."

Sold off by Rick's mother as something she cared little for and thought sinful to own since it gave her two residences, the old Grimes condo down on Jekyll Island is tempting. Population on the Island couldn't be more than a thousand or so, tops, and Shane bets most evacuated.

"Yeah. And if the island isn't safe, I would rather rough camp on one of the others than watch you wear yourself out protecting a place with no walls and poor defenses."

It makes sense to find somewhere more defendable either way, and the further from a major city, the better. Halfway between Savannah and Jacksonville isn't ideal, but like Lori says, they're islands. At least on those, it's gators he needs to watch for, not walkers.

"We'll talk it over at supper tonight." He knows Carl is busy with the gift he brought back, so Shane chances a kiss. Lori leans into his body, making that little purr sound that goes straight to his groin. Never in his life did he ever look at Lori and think of what she would sound like aroused, so it's still novel now.

It's not that she's an unattractive woman. Shane always acknowledged Rick chose well, or his brother did, anyway. But the relationship following so quickly after the beating Shane took from Senior hurt worse than the stitches and broken ribs. Hell, the ribs were barely healed when he caught Rick doing the walk of shame back to the dorm one morning.

Shane was never more grateful in his life that they weren't roommates. Life in the athletic dorm meant easy access to ways to forget the gnawing ache inside. It didn't matter to his heart that Rick was protecting them both and looked fucking miserable that cold winter morning. 

It's a miracle Rick was the only one with an unplanned pregnancy that semester. Shane certainly wasn't careful in his haze of booze and willing girls. He didn't intend to return to King County after graduation. With Grandma Jean dying their sophomore year of college, Rick was his only tie to 'home'.

But he came home at three a.m. one March Saturday, stinking of sex and whiskey to find a terrified Rick huddled in his room. Shane loved him too much to abandon him to unexpected fatherhood. Back to King County he went, and most days, it was worth the pain of being so close yet so far.

It probably isn't healthy, him focusing all the years of going without this kind of closeness on Rick's widow. But he hasn't lied to Lori. She knows what Rick was to him.

Shane doesn't know if he can fall in love with her, but he does love her as he always has as Carl's mother. This is more than he had before.

Voices too close to the tent make him pull away reluctantly. "Got something for you."

When he holds out the little silver oak leaves, he knows Lori catches the significance. She bites her bottom lip, looking up at him with those trusting brown eyes. With slow, deliberate motions, she unhooks the little dangly things she's wearing and replaces them with the silver leaves.

It's a promise between them, Shane knows, of more than a couple of stolen moments hidden in the woods. Her kiss tells him that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh. Shane is cranky POV in this. Maybe I should have let Ed get eaten right away to improve his mood.
> 
> Since we're going AU with this, I'm envisioning that Glenn scouts locations and then takes in teams, because logistically, it would be impossible to have one individual retrieve enough canned goods etc to feed the whole camp.


	5. Spark of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mishap on a scouting run adds a few more people to the quarry camp, and Lori has to face unintended consequences of her new relationship with Shane.

** July 10, 2010 **

Shane grumbles as he finishes the last stitch in Glenn's calf. The young man is shaking and pale, but he managed to hold still for five stitches.

"Please tell me you got an updated tetanus shot sometime recently," Lori tells him, handing Shane the clean gauze to pat away blood. The wound has already been flushed with sterilized water before Shane volunteered to stitch it as the only one with recent first aid training.

"Yeah, actually. I got bit by a dog on a pizza delivery, and they jabbed me then. Six months ago, I think."

Now that the stitching is over, Glenn leans down to watch as Shane applies a layer of antibiotic cream and a bandage. "It feels worse than it looks."

"What did you catch it on?" Lori asks, clearing away the trash.

"Twisted metal on a dumpster." Making a face at his ruined pants, Glenn turns and looks over his shoulder to the two newcomers he brought back. "They helped me. Killed the walkers that had me trapped."

The women are young, probably Glenn's age. One is a eoman with skin as dark as Jacqui's, who wears the remains of a military uniform that saw its better days weeks ago. The other woman is a petite Latina with her dark hair escaping a loose ponytail. Both are eyeing the gathered onlookers with wary curiosity.

Lori approaches the two and offers her hand in greeting. "Thank you for helping Glenn get back to us. I'm Lori, and you've met Shane."

The girl in civilian clothing shakes Lori's hand. "I'm Lucia. My friend was a corporal in the Guard at the Atlanta Refugee Center when the Army fucking napalmed us."

Her companion sighs and nudges Lucia, smoothing close-cropped curly hair absently. "Corporal Naomi Evans. She doesn't understand why I'm not angrier about it. We evacuated who we could, but Lucia got separated from her grandfather."

"It's just the two of you?" Lori knows that even injured, Glenn would have quizzed them, but he's more trusting than she and Shane are. They'll talk to her easier than Shane with his obvious cop demeanor.

"Now? Yeah." Lucia looks haunted. "We got out of the center okay. Bus was overloaded, and someone was hiding a bite. Naomi got as many of us free that she could, but we lost more trying to flee on foot in the dark."

Naomi's smile fades, unpleasant memories rising for her. "We had nine by the time the sun rose. Three left on their own that same day. Four more walked two weeks later."

"Why didn't you go with them?" Lori asks. A group whittled down to just two is a special kind of dangerous, even if one is military trained.

"We were trying to find Lucia's grandfather. I didn't know where the rendezvous point was. That was Sergeant Michaels, and he died when the bus wrecked." 

"It was good of you to stay with her," Lori tells Naomi.

The other woman shrugs. "My command structure was gone, and I didn't have any family to go look for. Seemed someone should stay with her. We've been holed up in a half bombed apartment building. Rotters don't like the places the napalm hit. Messes up their sense of smell, I think."

Lori looks back over her shoulder, catching Shane's eye. He nods, still studying both young women. "You are both welcome in our camp and to keep looking for your grandfather."

"And what do we owe for that?" Lucia frowns, looking around.

"You've stayed alive in the actual city for weeks. Help Glenn with his scouting trips. He'll help you as well, right, Glenn?" Shane offers.

The Korean nods and smiles. "Give me a couple of days not to be dinged up." Turning to the onlookers, he calls out to T-Dog. "You up for a roommate? Let the ladies have my tent?"

The other man agrees, even going to help Glenn shift his things out of the tent. They aren't crammed in like sardines anymore thanks to some of the supply runs, but they don't have a lot of extras for newcomers. It's been almost a month since the last straggler came into the camp.

"There's a lake?" Naomi says, sounding hopeful.

Imagining the limits in water supply squatting in a damaged building makes Lori feel like she needs a bath herself. "Give me a minute to get some things together for you both."

Once the women are on their way down to the water, Shane draws Lori to the side. "Good thinking on them staying. I know it was Good Samaritan for you, as it should be, but they should have a lot of information to share about the city."

It feels a little selfish to think about it that way, but that is their reality now. Plus they have their own search areas that can help the women eliminate some areas for search. "We can't keep staying here," she says, looking around the camp. "It's getting too dangerous to go into the city, and what if those things start migrating?"

He draws her into a hug, rubbing her back gently. "We were planning on leaving for the shore by the end of the month, right? This won't change that. They can stay with the ones who want to stick close to the city or come with us if they prefer."

Letting the idea of more responsibility leach away with the reminder that these are grown women and capable survivors, Lori leans against his muscular form. "We need to take a walk," she mutters against his skin.

"Alright. I'll go tell Carl to stay close to Jacqui." His ready agreement makes her feel guilty. She stops by the bag of supplies left forgotten in the excitement of Glenn's arrival with injury and company. He kept nudging it toward her, so she knows his run was successful.

The box is crushed, stuffed among the other pharmacy bits Glenn went for, and she slides one of the slim plastic sticks out and into her pocket. She never would have asked him to do this if they hadn't needed other supplies, especially antibiotics for Luis Morales's ear infection. Grabbing a bottle of amoxicillin, she passes it to Miranda even as she stuffs her own request in her pocket.

Part of her wants to creep off and take the test in private. The terrified out of her mind part doesn't think she can handle doing it alone, not again. Ever since she missed her period last week, she's tried not to think about it. It could be stress or nutrition or a million other things, but the guilt of not eliminating the obvious is going to drive her crazy.

With bathers at the quarry, Lori and Shane head toward that old blueberry patch. His hand linked into hers, he looks over at her. "I get the feeling this ain't a pleasure trek we're making."

The worry in his voice bothers her. She takes a deep breath, fully intending to mention the pregnancy test in her pocket. Instead, what comes out is, "I want to tell Carl about us."

Shane comes to a halt, gripping her shoulders and studying her intently. "You sure that's not too soon?"

When this started between them, Lori would have thought it would take months for her to feel right about telling Carl. But she's been watching Shane and her son, and the two have only grown closer every day. Carl has never had this much attention from a male role model, not with the demands of his father's job. He is thriving in this backwoods camp in a way he never did in their safe house back home.

She can't be entirely certain Carl won't balk, but the longer they wait, the more she is afraid he'll be offended by them hiding it. So she nods. "You know how sometimes people forget and call you his dad?"

"Yeah." It's a bittersweet moment for Shane when he overhears, she knows.

"He stopped saying, 'oh, you mean Shane'. I know that's not how you want it, any kind of replacing Rick. But he isn't upset by the idea."

Shane runs a hand over his hair, stepping away and pacing a little. "I don't want him to think I've forgotten his daddy, Lori, or want him to."

"I know the feeling." If Carl were younger, it wouldn't matter so much, but at twelve, he's beginning to understand the complexity of adult relationships better. "But he's going to figure it out."

Probably sooner rather than later, if that stick burning a hole in her pocket gives a certain answer.

"Guess that's right. Carl's too smart not to notice, especially once we aren't camping out." 

Closer quarters in a house definitely would give things away. Lori can't imagine going back to sleeping without Shane curled against her. "We may have a different issue there," she manages, fiddling with her pocket and palming the test.

Shane is too observant not to spot what she has. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It is. Haven't taken it yet." Jesus Christ, this is almost as terrifying as facing Rick all those years ago in college at nineteen. It should be easier at thirty-three, right?

"You got those patches," Shane begins, but shakes his head. He's not some ignorant high school boy, confused about birth control being an absolute guarantee. "How long you been worrying all on your own?"

His pacing brings him back to her, and she gets pulled into a tight hug. Any fear Lori has about the test result melts away when Shane kisses her gently. She snuggles into him despite the heat. "About five days."

Five days where she's noted each symptom she had with Carl: a bladder the size of a grain of rice, breasts feeling like bruises instead of useful appendages, and nausea every time someone cooks meat in camp. As good as Shane has always been with Carl, she's never seen any indication he wants to be a father himself. Hell, he even joked with Rick once, after a coworker's wife had their sixth baby followed by a vasectomy, that he wondered how much it would cost to convince the doctor to do one for a bachelor.

All that worry, and Shane is petting her shoulders like she's the most precious thing he's ever seen. Instead of answering him, Lori kisses him. It gets heated, both of them lost in the moment. But he pulls away at last, plucking the test from her hand. 

"Ain't these supposed to be done first thing of a morning?" 

Lori laughs as he turns it in his hands curiously. "It helps, since the hormone is more concentrated if you've been holding it."

"But you obviously don't want to wait."

She shakes her head and reaches for the test. "Not sure how to manage in the woods, but I want to try. There's a second test back in the box if we need another."

Shane nods, going to take a seat on an old log, obviously intending to give her some privacy. It's not her easiest time peeing in the woods, but she manages. Slipping the cap back on, she fumbles for the tiny package of tissues to dry what needs drying and fastens her jeans back up.

Going back to sit on the log next to him, she lays the test aside and accepts the arm around her shoulders. 

"Gonna be okay either way," he tells her.

"I thought you didn't want kids," Lori admits.

"Didn't think I would make much of a father, not having one myself. But I ain't messed Carl up yet, have I?"

"No, you're great with Carl. Always have been."

Shane strokes his warm hand along her arm, trying to soothe. "That all that's bothering you? Whether or not I might not want a baby?"

That was the worst, but not the only worry. "I had a C-section with Carl."

"Shit. Forgot that part. You were up and taking on the world the next day. Made it look easy."

It wasn't as terrifying as Lori thought it would be, that surgical delivery. If she had gone up to Atlanta to deliver, it might have been different. But King County wasn't equipped for a breech delivery, and Carl wouldn't turn. Him being nipped off to NICU at first overshadowed her own recovery, even for Lori.

"They had my baby down the hall. Wasn't staying in bed if I could go see him." Damned wheelchair was too slow and required an escort, so Lori tucked that stupid little pillow across her incision and walked right on down there. Nurses couldn't resist that, her peering in the windows needing to see that her son was alright.

She checks her watch and taps Shane on the knee. Reaching for the test, she turns it so they can both see. It's one of the easy ones, no lines or plus signs to interpret. Just a clear digital display with the results spelled out.

Lori honestly didn't expect the reaction to be Shane kissing her senseless, even after his calm acceptance of the possibility. Him stripping away both their clothes and making her just about forget her own name also wasn't what she thought would happen. After, both of them naked as jaybirds in the afternoon sunshine, Shane lays with one big hand cupped across her flat belly.

"I'll be a good daddy," he says softly, but his words hold the same weight of a vow that they did when he said he would keep her and Carl safe after Rick died. He smiles down at her from where he's propped on one elbow, that 22 necklace glinting in the sunlight.

Covering his hand with her own, Lori smiles up at him. "I know you will."

Later, after they reluctantly get dressed and return to camp, it seems her good luck holds. While they don't tell Carl - or anyone - about the tiny spark of life among them, they do tell her son that Shane's never leaving them. All Lori's worry that Carl would object fades under the look of sheer relief on the boy's face.

He clings to Shane like he did when Rick was first shot. "Dad would want us to be a family."

At twelve, maybe it is that simple. None of the adult complexities intruding, just a family rebuilding itself after losing its central most component. 

After Carl falls asleep, Lori lays close to Shane, watching as he continues his fascination with her belly. His fingers stroke pale skin, and he smiles boyishly at her in the dim light of the lantern. "Gonna find us a doctor, somehow, I promise."

Despite it feeling like she's asking him to perform miracles, finding a doctor in this devastated world where medical professionals were struck the hardest, Lori knows he'll do his damndest. It definitely means they can't stick around this camp long. Atlanta is a bust for any remaining civilization. Maybe Savannah will be better.

For now, Lori is going to revel in the moments she can, where the man next to her is looking at her like she's magic come to life. Surely, God wouldn't send them such a blessing and not provide the rest as well. Her faith has never been a stalwart thing, not like Rick's devout mama, but tonight?

Lori prays that this second chance she's been given isn't a fleeting one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Lori... Woman just has the damndest luck with birth control in this AU. 
> 
> As intense as Shane reacted about the baby in the show, I'm thinking without Rick's Lazarus act, he would get to be joyful about the baby this time.
> 
> I know folks worried for some of the missing refugees. Here's two of them!


	6. Lost Lambs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane leads his people safely to Jekyll Island, although leaving Ed behind takes some physical force.

** July 30, 2010 **

Waking next to someone on a daily basis is still a novelty for Shane. Even those times he had a girlfriend for a longer time period, overnights were only when his schedule and theirs combined. There was never a guarantee of going home every day to someone, and definitely little of waking beside them. Even in college with Rick, they had to be so careful that nothing ever felt guaranteed.

Now? He thinks he understands why Rick was so reluctant to end things with Lori no matter how sour the marriage went. Rick had Shane during the work shift, and being married? There was always someone who loved him at home, even if he and Lori were fighting.

Lori hasn't said she loves him, and honestly, he's glad they haven't rushed that. But he remembers what being in love is like, because he never stopped loving Rick. It was always a roadblock to any relationship he tried. Without that nebulous connection to sustain him, he's finally free to fall in love again.

His watch beeps an alarm, and Shane stops it before kissing Lori's bare shoulder beyond the strap of her shirt. She stirs sleepily and smiles up at him as she rolls to her back. "Got a long day ahead," he says softly.

"You sure we're going to keep Ed distracted?" she asks, stretching like a contented cat even as he strokes a hand across her belly and their precious secret.

"Ed's not going with us, even if I have to tie his ass to a tree and leave directions for the ones staying behind."

Lori laughs, the sound making Carl stir. "Maybe you should just plan on that. Take him for a little walk while we pack."

"Don't tempt me." Shane kisses her, making it linger, before climbing out of bed. Maybe within the week, bed will be an actual bed, with four walls and a roof. No more making do outdoors. He's still got to fill that promise to find a doctor.

It's a busy hour to finalize their preparations for the road, and he enlists T-Dog's help in getting Ed out from underfoot. The ladies ferret Carol and Sophia's things out from Ed's, instead of packing everything like the man ordered her to do. Ed might try to follow them, but once leaving became a plan, no one's mentioned going anywhere but Tybee, far north of their intended destination at Jekyll. Ed would find them if he searched all the islands, but if he's that stupid, Shane will take further action.

Shane does one last check over the two U-hauls that carry a large number of their supplies for the trip. T-Dog and Glenn will be driving them, with some of the ladies riding shotgun. T-dog is leaving his old church van, and they're also leaving an equal number of supplies behind for the larger part of the group that has decided to stay in the quarry.

The stray walkers coming up their way are getting more numerous. It's just a matter of time before the number is more than they can handle. Shane has a family to protect, and that can't be done here, not anymore. If any government crawls out of whatever hole it crawled into, he's sure Georgia's islands are as locatable as a hardscrabble camp outside Atlanta.

Dale already has his RV pulled out and parked behind Lori's SUV and the Morales' family's vehicle. The two U-hauls will slot into the middle, with Jim driving a pickup to bring up the rear. He's praying for an uneventful trip south, but they've had contingency plans set for days. 

The biggest worry is Dale's Winnebago holding up, but that's partly solved by the fact that there's another RV parked and waiting for them on the highway. No sense in kids sleeping in tents during the trip if it takes more than a day, and nothing is predictable these days. If Dale's goes down, at least there's a backup, especially for passengers.

A commotion near Dale's RV draws his attention, and Shane hears Ed's belligerent voice before he rounds the line of vehicles to see what's happening. His blood turns to ice as he sees Andrea and Lori blocking the door to the RV, neither of them moving despite Ed's threatening posture and shouting.

Shane doesn't catch the entirety of what Ed says to Andrea, something about being a college educated cooze, because the big asshole slaps the blonde. Andrea stumbles, off balance, and jostles into Lori, slamming her hard into the metal of the RV. Lori shrieks in pain, grabbing her elbow.

Shane sees red in a way he hasn't other than the day he killed the man who shot Rick. Even Lori calling out that she's okay doesn't stop him from dealing out exactly what he should have the first day he knew what Ed Peletier was. It takes T-Dog and Morales both to get him off the man. Beating the shit out of the man doesn't ease the guilt of letting things go so long, but at least he doesn't think the asshole has any hope of following them anytime soon.

When he lets Lori check his hands over, chest still heaving at the exertion, he feels ashamed his first instinct wasn't to go to her. His fists throb, knuckles split open on both hands. "You really okay?" he asks.

"Hit my funny bone. No worse for the wear," she says softly, looking up and studying him with solemn eyes. "We're all safe."

Holding her close, Shane glances around, noticing none of the children are anywhere to be seen. "Where are Carol and the kids?"

Andrea rubs her jaw and points toward the door of the RV while eyeing the man unconcious on the ground like he's a particularly noxious example of roadkill. "We stuffed all of them in the RV when Ed and T-Dog made the last trip up from the quarry lake with water. Ed got pissy about not seeing Carol when his tent wasn't taken down and packed."

Shane is grateful the kids didn't see how badly he lost it, but the tent had been a miscalculation, he supposes. Would have served the man right to have to reassemble it. Considering Jim removed a few key components from the Cherokee, it was going to take some work for him to follow them unless he bullied someone out of keys.

The blonde walks over and thumps Ed none too lightly in the nuts with the toe of her boot. "Still breathing, dammit."

"Andrea!" Dale scolds, earning himself a glare from more than just Andrea.

"If you feel so kindly, you can drag him back to his tent," Andrea retorts. "I'm all for leaving the bastard to bake in the sun." There's no mistaking the intent on Andrea's face as she steps on Ed's outstretched right hand - or the crunch of bone.

Dale does go to tug the man ineffectually, shooting Andrea recriminating looks as she walks away. T-Dog and Jim help him, dragging Ed into his tent. The cool attitude between Dale and Andrea persists until they leave, with Andrea aiming for T-Dog's passenger seat and evicting the young corporal to go ride in the RV.

Their caravan pulls away, without any of the folks staying behind changing their mind or objecting to Ed staying. Picking up the other RV is a quick stop, with Corporal Evans hopping out of Dale's Winnebago to go drive it. She maneuvers the big vehicle smoothly into line between Dale and Jim.

Shane glances at Lori when they're finally leaving Atlanta behind. She's been extremely quiet since his outburst of fury toward Ed, and it's worrying him. With Carl riding with the other kids in the Winnebago to reduce bathroom stops, it's just the two of them. He's glad to see she's got her holster out, and her little gun snug in it.

Reaching over to take her hand, he squeezes it lightly. "You okay?" Christ, what if she's scared of him now? If the other two men hadn't intervened, he thinks he might have killed the man.

"Yeah. Just feeling the finality of it, leaving Atlanta. As much as I know we're on our own, this drives it home. What if the island isn't safe, maybe got overrun?"

Shane understands the sense of apprehension. "There's others, and ones that weren't inhabited much at all. Or we can go full nomad on boats, if we need to. We'll find a safe place."

Neither of them mention the baby, and the desperate necessity for a medical professional that knows more than his emergency delivery training. Clinging to a faith he's not had since he was disowned by Rick's parents, Shane prays for a miracle, because he and Carl cannot lose Lori or the baby. They fall silent as the miles go by, until Lori starts frowning a couple hours out of Atlanta.

"These roads seem like they're cleared out?" She's leaning forward, eyeing a big luxury SUV that's neatly parked behind a small Toyota sedan.

"Yeah. Not sure if that's a good sign or bad. Shows someone else was alive out here and traveled through, but the question is who."

"What do we do if the island's occupied?" Lori asks hesitantly.

"Hope they're good people." And have a doctor, but he keeps that to himself because Lori doesn't need the reminder. "We'll check it out real careful."

Easing back in her seat, Lori reaches out for his hand, and he smiles at her. Shane notices something different about her hand that he can't believe he missed. Swiping his thumb across her bare finger again, his eyes widen, and he looks up. She's smiling at him, that sweet expression Shane's still getting used to being directed at him.

"It was time," she says, reaching for the chain around her neck to show Rick's ring isn't there, either. "I put them up safely for Carl to have one day, if he wants them."

"You didn't have to," he says, voice catching. 

"I needed to. There's honoring him, and there's clinging to a ghost. I think he would prefer it if we honor his memory by keeping Carl safe and happy, not hanging on to jewelry."

Shane can't help the small smile he wears as he turns his attention fully back to the road, thumb stroking that smooth skin. Rick would understand, he thinks. 

Around two, they stop and eat. Thanks to the cleared roads, they've made good time despite keeping to a slow forty-five to make missing stray walkers easier and safer. Shane isn't sure whether he should be grateful to whoever came before, or warn them that maybe some of their work needs to be undone. There's no guarantee these predecessors are on Jekyll Island, but if they are, he prays they're friendly.

Savannah proves tricky, requiring navigating around in a way that gets them off track for no roadblocks. Either Savannah was the destination for the prior travelers, or they took an even more circuitous route than Shane's plotted from long ago summers at Jekyll. Some mystery is solved when they reach Brunswick. 

There's no way the blocked bridges into that town are accidental. Even from his vantage point, Shane can see walkers on the other side. No one is living there, but they trapped them neatly. Eyeing the causeway out to Jekyll, he sighs. "Take the wheel, Lori. Any signs of problems, y'all get the kids out of here. Head for Jacksonville and wait at the state line."

The slim brunette nods, hugging him tight as they pass around the front of the vehicle. Soon as she's back in the SUV, he walks down the line, advising the others of the backup plan. Morales and Naomi Evans exchange a look.

"You aren't planning on going alone, are you?" the former National Guard corporal asks.

"Can't take too many and leave the kids undefended," he replies. 

It takes a little shuffling to make sure they have drivers in all the vehicles, but Shane eventually finds himself driving Jim's old pickup down the causeway, with Naomi and Glenn riding along. The clear roads stop here, and he starts to wonder if he's wrong about the island, until Glenn looks uneasy.

"You couldn't get up any speed through this, but nothing is actually blocked," the younger man notes.

Shane agrees. They haven't had to get out to move anything, but it's like driving an obstacle course. "You got your military ID, Naomi?"

"Yeah. You got your deputy stuff?"

Glenn chuckles uneasily. "I feel left out. Don't think I could pretend to deliver pizza."

The laughter helps, especially when they see a military style checkpoint. "Do we risk trusting military?" Shane mutters. The Guardsmen at the hospital come to mind, even if Naomi says no such orders were ever given at the Refugee Center.

"Gotta take the chance," Naomi grumbles. "Not all of us were assholes."

Shane nods, handing Glenn the mike to the radio. "Stay put and warn them if they need warning. Run if you have to."

Eyes wide, Glenn grips the mike tight and slides into the driver's seat as Shane slides out. The truck isn't quite out of military rifle range, but if they aren't friendly, Shane hopes they focus on him and Naomi and not Glenn left behind. Naomi is tense as she paces beside him.

Once they're in earshot, she calls out. "Corporal Naomi Evans, Georgia National Guard, approaching!"

The reaction is surprisingly non-militaristic. "Naomi? Oh my God, you're alive!"

Shane can't see the speaker yet, because she's scrambled out of sight, and the gate is opening slowly due to its reinforced weight. An athletic redhead darts through the gate as soon as there's a gap, and she nearly bowls Naomi over with a hug. "I thought you were dead," the redhead sobs.

Naomi returns the hug, grinning widely as she looks over at Shane. "Had a camping trip detour. Is this where everyone ended up? I never was told the rendezvous point, and the sergeant died when the bus crashed and rolled."

"No, it was Stone Mountain. We stayed there, looked for survivors, but left when it looked like no outside help was coming. Do you have a group?"

Naomi introduces Shane. "One of his people found me and the last of my group while we were looking for her grandfather. I've been with them since."

The redhead wipes away tears. "Grandfather? Please tell me her name is Lucia?"

Shane and Naomi exchange a look, and the corporal laughs. "Why do I get the feeling we were searching way too far northwest?"

Natalie shouts up to the boy that looks too young for his military uniform. "AJ! Radio in that we've got a group coming in with two of our lost lambs. Have someone tell Michonne it's Juan's granddaughter."

"Holy shit. Gonna be some celebrating on the island tonight. How many people?"

"Counting Naomi and Lucia, fourteen adults. We've also got four children. Not sure the two RVs can navigate the barriers, or the trucks with supplies," Shane answers.

"Sarge will send someone out to move the barriers for you," Natalie says, smiling broadly. "More kids! That's always a happy miracle."

As delighted as the girl seems at the idea, Shane feels a tension ease away. A community with kids already here is about as good a sign as any he can imagine. The only thing better would be a doctor.

"Yeah," Shane says huskily. "Kids are certainly a miracle these days."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tricky, tricky chapter on getting rid of Ed... Will he reappear? Only if he wants to have an up close visit to Jaws the Gator...
> 
> While this story will post irregularly, it will may allow Glenn a chance to run the POV the next time it appears...


	7. Careless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lori reflects on the content life she's settling into on the island.

** August 30, 2010 **

Time on the island seems to fly by compared to time in the quarry camp. Maybe it’s because here, everyone is reasonably certain that they can’t be attacked by walkers. But nowhere is one hundred percent safe, which is why Shane insisted that she pass through Merle’s certification process to prove she was qualified to carry her little Sig Sauer. 

It could be considered ironic that she’s carried it holstered here more than ever before in her life. Putting on the shoulder holster is a daily routine now: .380 on one side, knife on the other. No one seemed to think it odd when Shane found her a holster that wasn’t dependent on wearing a belt. Michonne seems fairly approving, and she’s one of exactly three other people who knew about the pregnancy in the first trimester aside from Shane and Lori.

The doctor, a pretty yet shy young woman named Denise, quietly confirmed the pregnancy. She attended births in her training, including c-sections, despite finally deciding to be a psychiatrist. What was once a larger private residence is being turned into a mini-hospital for all needs. By the time Lori gives birth in early March, her baby will be delivered in what was once a rather tastefully decorated dining room.

It wasn’t really suprising to learn that the guy that’s in charge of security on and off island is aware. The first time the quarry survivors showed up at the firing range Merle has set up at the north end of the island, he returned the weapons they’d surrendered the first day. The difference is that he didn’t return the ammo Lori brought with her. Instead, he sat a different box in front of her with a gruff announcement. “Lead free. Wear a mask and shower after any range work.”

Shane had been disturbed that he hadn’t thought of it, but even as a certified instructor, he’d never trained a pregnant woman to shoot. The funny part is that heavy metal poisoning seems like such a normal thing to worry about while pregnant, after how bad the world turned at the end.

“Hey, Mom? Can me and Sophia go with Lizzie and Mika down to the beach? I’m all done.” Carl drops his packet of school work into the basket on the edge of Lori’s desk, smiling brightly. He’ll always be a pale-skinned kid, but he’s got a glow here that makes her heart ache quite a bit that Rick’s not seeing just how Carl’s still thriving, even at the end of the world.

When she looks around, she can see the three girls waiting patiently, even though Sophia’s been finished for a good fifteen minutes now. It’s sweet how none of the three older ones ever turn ten-year-old Mika away to play with the younger kids. “Are you going to swim, or just roam the beach?”

“Might swim. It’s really hot today.” That shifts his expression to apprehensive, because she can tell he just remembered they have to have someone older along to actually swim. “Has Princess come back yet?” 

The young woman has only been here a week, and already she’s a major favorite among all the kids. A lot of it is her willingness to tag along for any activities that require adult supervision. “No, she’s still out.”

Just like yesterday, although honestly, Princess still on schedule to be out right now. Something’s going on with the younger woman, but whether or not she’ll say anything to Lori, who knows? Lori sighs, stretching in her chair. She’s ended up the primary teacher of the school aged kids, with Joanna looking after the two toddlers and occasionally baby Gracie. Most of the kids are still finishing up, so she won’t be free for another half hour, at least, around the time the rest of the adults trickle back from their day’s work.

“Why don’t you go see if Glenn’s available? I saw his team coming back in about half an hour ago. If not, y’all can wait to swim until I can get down there.”

“Alright, Mama. You don’t need anything, do you?” Carl’s serious expression, with the flick of his eyes toward her belly, makes her smile. She shakes her head, so he jogs off to join the girls. They all disappear out of the meeting room turned classroom.

It’s a nice setup, the room chosen because it had big windows that fold back so that there’s patio access. That allows big fans to keep air circulating in the room, and school in the afternoons means that the kids are out of the heat and not up to mischief. There are eighteen children in the community still deemed young enough to need formal education. If it’s not a sign of hope, Lori doesn’t know what else is.

Reaching for the next packet of papers to grade, she reminds herself of the other sign of hope. She’s fourteen weeks pregnant this week, and that’s well into the second trimester safe zone. The loose shirts she’s wearing now just barely hide that her waistline is starting to round out too much to be anything but what it is. They told Carl last week after the ultrasound, and her son is overjoyed about his new sibling. He’s even got one of the ultrasound printouts framed in his room. 

“Miss Lori! I see the sails!” Meghan’s excitement spreads through the kids still remaining. Even Ron, who normally sees himself as being too old for spending time with the younger kids, is craning his neck to watch the big sailboat headed for the docks beyond the hotel. “Can we go see what they caught today?”

It’s close enough to the end of the day, and this certainly isn’t time so closely regulated she can’t declare the day done early. “Put your work away to finish tomorrow.”

Their desks are cleared with the speed of any kids being turned loose from school early. She calls out to the older ones to keep an eye on the smallest ones on the way to the docks. Smiling as the older kids pair off easily with the smallest, holding hands in the buddy system she implemented, she watches all the kids disappear to the street out front for the fastest trip to the dock.

Tidying up the classroom, Lori turns off the fans and closes everything up until morning. She isn’t surprised to find Carl and the girls among the other kids by the time she reaches the dock herself, beach forgotten. Shane’s crew is unloading to the dock, with those whose duties or off days left them on island swarming to help ferry fish up to the cleaning stations.

Carl’s chattering a mile a minute to Shane, Sophia right behind him. Without Ed around, the girl’s bloomed, bold and bright, the best friend Carl could ever hope for. Lori knows the moment she’s been spotted by Shane, leaning against the railing out of everyone’s way, by the content smile he sends her way. The smell of raw fish doesn’t bother her as much now, but she doesn’t think she’s ever going to want to help down here until this baby is no longer messing up her hormones.

“Hey, pretty lady.” Shane grins as he crosses the dock, brushing a quick kiss across her lips. The smell of fish clinging to him isn’t as bad as it will be up by the cleaning stations, but it is still distinctive enough that he doesn’t try to hug her like he would on a different duty day. “Have a good day today?”

“Yeah, really good.” She falls in step beside him, content with a morning spent helping Carol with laundry after Merle took the kids down to the range and her afternoon in the classroom. Life here has none of the anxious boredom her life used to have, and it makes her feel relieved and guilty both to make the comparision.

It’s funny how Lori never thought she’d see Shane as happy doing something other than law enforcement as he is now. Merle offered him a run team, but Shane refused. It’s the same reasoning he gave her for why he wanted her to stay in camp back in Atlanta - Carl’s lost too much. As long as there’s work to be done that keeps him closer to home, he’s fine with taking to the water, teaching sailing and taking those interested out to fish as his part of contributing to supplies.

Shane hasn’t left behind his law enforcement skills entirely. Not everyone adapts to military style training easily, so Merle tapped Shane to run self-defense classes like he did back home. The kids in particular enjoy his classes, and a rookie cop from the Atlanta survivors shadows him anytime he’s teaching law enforcement related skills.

“How’s the sailing crew working out?” Michonne loved the idea of being able to put the bigger sailboats to work, the ones that combine sail and engine. Fuel is a valuable commodity at this point, better used for land use when there are plenty of sailboats available for islander use. Until Shane and Lori arrived, they had no one there who’d done more than be a passenger on one. 

“Honestly, give it another week, and I’d turn Lucia loose on any of the smaller boats solo if she wanted. Same for Rosita.”

“Michonne will be glad to hear it. I think she wants to eventually use the boats more than the cars. Less potential contact with large herds that way.”

“Based on what I see on the shoreline, she’s probably right. The walkers don’t seem to lurk around the shores if they aren’t stuck on an island, just like Princess observed. Sound from the water disrupts their hearing too much. Probably their sense of smell, too.”

“Makes the idea of an island even better, doesn’t it?” Lori knows walkers aren’t the only dangers out there, but at least the island cuts the danger down to only humans. The stories Shane’s heard from Abraham Ford and Cesar Martinez underlined the idea that human nature hasn’t changed all that much with the fall of the world. There are human predators out there among the survivors.

“Definitely.” Shane makes sure that no one needs him, promising Carl and the girls he’ll meet them at the beach in half an hour. The kids join in on cleaning fish. Most will be part of tonight’s supper, since feeding this many people does take a significant amount each day. Any extra will be frozen, adding to the slowly growing stores of food that their ability to have a steady source of electricity now assists.

“Tomorrow I’m supposed to meet with Merle and Michonne about securing some of the other buildings for expansion. He thinks it’s a good idea not to have everyone clustered in a single location. Too many personality clashes starting up.”

Lori frowns, glancing at Shane. They’ve almost reached the hotel, which currently houses everyone. That’s a population of around a hundred people though, and it can feel a bit like close quarters. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“For us? Maybe moving down to one of the condo setups with anyone who wants to live nearby. Or we can stay in the hotel, if you like.”

“It would be nice not to be living in a hotel,” Lori muses. “It feels weird having Carl in a connecting room, no matter how much I tell myself it’s no different than him having his own space in a house.”

Shane just laughs, even as he holds the door to the stairwell open. “Be nice if you aren’t having to climb stairs all the time as time goes by, I’ll bet.”

“That would make more sense if condos you talked about working well the other day weren’t townhouses.”

“With the master on the ground floor.”

“Oh. That would be nice.” It’s honestly not the pregnancy that worries Lori, because aside from the end, she’d been pretty healthy and active with Carl. Granted, she’s thirteen years older, but she’s still in good shape. The real issue is the baby up and down the hotel stairs regularly.

“I’m fairly sure all of the quarry people will shuffle over if we do. Plus a few of the others with kids, like Ryan and his girls or Lilly and Meghan.”

“What will happen to the hotel?” Lori’s really curious. They’ve done a lot of custom work on the ground floor there for community use.

“Far as I know, Michonne’s still planning on it being a community center. Classes, meals staying a community function for lunch and supper, food and supply storage. Probably still house a lot of the single people, too. Merle wants something opened up riverside also, so folks will have two different areas to choose from. The hotel was never meant to be permanent lodging.”

“Well, as long as we can make everything safe, I’m not going to argue with something a little more homey. It’s not like we don’t have the space.” With the island meant to house at least ten times their number, empty real estate is fairly easy to come by.

In their room, Shane showers away the fishy smell, grinning at her from behind the shower curtain when she whisks his clothing into the sealed bag. “Aren’t you glad I only go out every other day on the boat?”

While her schedule is pretty settled, Shane’s isn’t. While both Merle and Sergeant Ford have their own run teams that leave the island, and Shane has the combination sailing and fishing lessons that do the same, there is a schedule so that at least one of the three are always on the island. It’s not that many of the ones with regular jobs on the island aren’t competent to defend it. The three men just have had their mindsets honed at a level that the civilians are still working toward, even Michonne.

Since Merle was on island today, tomorrow Shane will be here. She smiles when he quirks his brow and motions toward the shower. “Wanna wash my back?”

Tossing his bagged work clothes, she strips down to join him. Part of her wonders if they’re still in a honeymoon phase, and how long it might last, but for now, she’s just enjoying Shane’s fairly constant need for touch. When Denise offered grief counseling to their little family, Lori was the first to go. The reassurance that there was nothing inherently wrong with forming their relationship so soon soothed a lot of worries in the back of Lori’s mind. 

Instead of him aiming for her to help him wash, he tugs her close, cupping his hand across her belly. Naked, there’s no mistaking that she’s pregnant and not just a bit chubby. The skin is taut and fascinates Shane. “You are so damn beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing her shoulder. “I hope our baby takes after you.”

The compliment, one he’s been especially generous with since he first realized she was insecure about her body starting to change, makes her smile and turn in his embrace. Cupping his face, she just strokes her thumbs across his face for a moment. “I’m hoping for your smile and curls, no matter what.”

He gives her that boyish smile in reaction. It’s not the same as the bravado he puts behind his public smile. This is the one that she knows he reserves for family, and the idea of it being passed on to their child makes her heart damn near melt. “Well, just that much might be just fine on a girl, but best for little girls to look more like their pretty mamas.”

“You seem mighty sure the baby will be a girl.” It’ll be a while longer before they know for sure, at least a month before Denise wants to try the next ultrasound. 

“Told you Carl was going to be a boy, didn’t I?”

“You had a fifty fifty chance of getting it right or wrong, you know.”

“Well, I’m hoping the odds are in my favor again. Would be perfect, you know. Boy and a girl. Can you imagine Carl with a baby sister?”

Yes, Lori’s had dreams of that, ever since Shane first made a passing comment that he was happy with either gender, but he really wanted a daughter. It took her a while to really piece together why, although she’d felt a little dense when it clicked for her. Shane was raised by a single mother, and his grandmother was widowed before he was ever born. Both women passed away before Lori met Rick and Shane, but she’s heard the stories.

“Carl will be a great big brother, either way, but yeah, he’d lose his mind over a sister to spoil,” she admits. “Just like her daddy will.”

He turns to let her actually wash his back, smiling at her concession to his guess on the baby’s gender, time ticking to him joining the kids on the beach. Lori pulls up a daydream of that scenario having a tiny toddler with Shane’s curls, chasing Carl along the shore. Shane would be torn between joining their play and being their guardian angel. She can’t imagine anything more beautiful in the world than what her family is growing to be after she thought they were fractured beyond repair after losing Rick.

Honeymoon stage or not, she’s grateful for this second chance, and she promises herself she won’t make the same mistakes as she did before. She never got the chance to apologize to Rick. That’s a regret she’ll never rid herself of. Now? There’s always going to be an echo of those words in her mind, reminding her of how easily happiness slips right out of your fingers when you’re careless with it.

Lori never intends to be careless again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably won't update heavily, but I thought a peek was needed into how they settled into the island.
> 
> Plus a little sly friendship building for Carl with Lizzie and Mika... I put the girls in as their season 4 ages instead of how old they would be at the beginning of the ZA.
> 
> I think Glenn's OC romance will get it's own very short story, so I may untag it...


	8. I'll Say Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane and Lori spend a quiet New Year's Eve together, while Carl's away at a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahead, mid-chapter...

**December 31, 2010**

At seven months pregnant, Lori is still smaller than Shane truly expected her to be. Granted, he’d had plenty of reasons to be willfully blind when she was pregnant with Carl, so he can’t exactly remember if she was this small before. As long as Denise isn’t worried, he won’t be, and right now, everything is going like clockwork. Both women assure him that with Lori’s build and the way she’s carrying the baby, he’s likely to be in for a big surprise when the baby finally drops down closer to birth.

Carl is absolutely enamored of his sister, which explains why he’s laying with his head on Lori’s knee, reading Bridge to Terabithia to the baby. Once he learned the baby’s hearing was developing and that she could recognize voices at birth, Carl started with shorter books, but got bored with that material soon enough. Since his mother enjoys the nightly reading, usually about two chapters, they’ve been alternating between books Lori enjoyed as a child and books Carl’s read on his own.

Shane chats with the baby at other times, often while Lori’s asleep, or at least pretending to be. He figures it’s early preparation for the middle of the night feedings, when he’s going to take full advantage of not having a job to need paternity leave. This could be his only time to raise an infant, so being a hands on dad is the only way he plans to be.

As the boy’s voice trails off and he yawns, Shane meets Lori’s eyes and grins. “Are you sure you’re wanting to stay up until midnight, Carl?” he asks.

“Well, of course. I promised everyone I would come to the party.” Rolling off the couch, Carl gets to his feet. “I can still go, right?”

“Don’t forget to take the snacks you made earlier,” Lori tells him. “And you behave exactly as Carol tells you to.”

“I will, Mom.” Carl hugs his mother, patting her belly affectionately. “Good night, sister.” 

Shane gets a half distracted hug and a hasty good night as Carl grabs the big tin full of popcorn balls Lori helped him make earlier. As soon as the door shuts behind the boy, Shane chuckles and picks up the snack plate he just finished making. “Carol is in for an adventure tonight, overseeing that giant co-ed sleepover.”

Life on the island has been good to the once mousy woman, to the point Shane wouldn’t recognize Carol if he hadn’t watched the changes happen. She lives directly across from Shane and Lori, selecting a condo close to theirs in the complex inhabited by former quarry members plus a few extra folks. Jacqui took the third bedroom, seeming content with being a favorite aunt to Sophia.

They could have moved into houses, but everyone liked the close, but not too close, feel of the condominiums. Plus so many of them were new or rentals that it doesn’t feel like invading someone else’s home, but less sterile than the hotel had been. The Morales family is two houses down from Carol, Dale and the Harrison sisters not far, while T-Dog and Glenn share a condo four down on Shane’s side of the little cul-de-sac. Jim and the two female refugees Glenn brought in are the only ones from the quarry that aren’t housed here.

“I would feel bad for her, except she does have Jacqui there. Plus I think Lilly and Jessie decided to join them in overseeing the chaos since their kids are all there, too,” Lori replies, taking the plate of peanut butter smeared apple slices. “I feel like I never stop eating. Thank you.”

Murmuring a “you’re welcome”, Shane settles onto the couch beside her. Their place had been selected with the baby in mind, a full master on the ground floor with two bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs so that Carl has a little privacy. He’s thirteen now, as of the middle of October, and initially, Shane hadn’t been certain the coed slumber party was a good idea. But he reminded himself that if the teens on the island really wanted to test their limits and fool around, they wouldn’t do it right under an adult’s supervision.

Lilly’s recent sex education lesson for all the kids over ten had included making them watch multiple birth videos, including a c-section. It had taken Carl a full week to be able to look directly at his mother after that. Shane thinks his own school should have been more brutally honest in educating students, and they might not have had six pregnant teenage girls between freshman year and graduation of his and Rick’s time there.

“You want to watch a movie?” he asks.

Electricity is available but rationed carefully as the power grid is expanded under the auspices of the odd engineer from Texas. Eugene’s a genius with technology, but he’s a cautious one. Shane and Lori have been pretty sparing with their usage, always staying well under the allotment. Even Carl doesn’t quibble much about time limits on video games. There’s just too much to keep his attention here, without the constant confines and boredom of standardized schooling.

“Sure,” Lori answers between bites of apple. “A movie night sounds kinda nice.”

Shuffling through their collection, Shane offers up a few to choose from, smiling a little at the idea of watching something soft and romantic, but not actually surprised when Lori choses something adventurous instead. Despite her firm playacting in the old world to keep up with the other department wives and PTA moms, chick flicks aren’t actually her cup of tea. Once he’s got the movie started, he snags the big fleece blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it across them both after posing as Lori’s backrest.

A year ago, he never would have imagined spending this much time with any person other than Rick, and even then, it wouldn’t have been thinking up cozy nights like this. He finds he’s surprisingly content with life now, despite the risks they face with the outside world. No longer being on the outside looking in is a wonderful feeling.

“Last New Year’s, where were you?” Lori asks as the credits roll on the movie. “You didn’t come to our party.”

Shifting his hand across her belly as the baby makes a slow movement under his hand, Shane sighs. “Rick had said you two were fighting. I didn’t feel up to being the buffer.”

With hindsight, he knows he was their buffer more often than he likes to think. Lori has always been the type to not want to fight in front of others, although as the years went by, her reluctance to bicker with Rick in front of Shane waned quite a bit. It gave him a front row seat to the couple’s never stable marriage in all its ups and downs.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I even remember what we might have been fighting about. Nothing big, I assume.” Catching his hand, she twines their fingers, bringing them to rest at the top of her belly, just under her breasts. “It actually wasn’t a bad party. Lots of charades. Betsy Appleby got drunk and puked in the planter on the porch. How was yours?”

“She never could handle her liquor, but she always tried, didn’t she?” The woman was another deputy’s wife, Shane pushes away the memory of having to put her down after she got bitten by her husband and turned. “It was… busy. Woman I knew from college was recently divorced. Invited me up to Atlanta for a party.” 

He’d gotten lucky with scheduling, with their off days actually falling on New Year’s Eve and Day for once. Sometimes, he would volunteer to work, either solo or with another partner, on big holidays if his days off aligned with one, but last year he’d wanted the distraction. An old college fuck buddy seemed like a good way to spend forty-eight hours off duty.

“That’s a lot of inflection to such a short word,” Lori teases. “I’m guessing it’s one of those stories that you don’t tell your heavily pregnant lover.”

“Probably not.” No matter how comfortable Lori seems with their relationship, she really doesn’t need a true accounting of his previously dissolute lifestyle. Her imagination is probably good enough to fill in any blanks, and he doesn’t intend to stray.

She hums softly, wriggling against him in a way designed to pique his interest. “Maybe you should demonstrate some of those skills you learned in your long years as a bachelor.”

Laughing softly, Shane presses a kiss to her jaw, helping her turn so that she’s sideways across his lap, back against the couch. It gives him room for a real kiss, and he makes it a slow, exquisite one. Making out is something he’s discovered he enjoys again, so he takes his time. She never rushes him, delighting in just how long he’s willing to keep his attention focused solely on her. Her stretchy leggings allow him to slide a hand down, to take advantage of the heightened sensitivity of the pregnancy to have her riding his fingers until she’s shuddering and boneless in his lap.

“C’mon, beautiful, time for bed.” It’s still an hour before midnight, but it’s just a number for them, but unlike his bachelor apartment, there’s always the possibility here that Carl might come home. His next plans aren’t easily covered by an oversized blanket.

Lori gives him a sly smile and loops her arms around his neck, and Shane doesn’t resist the teasing request to carry her. Even with the added weight from the pregnancy, she’s still easy for him to lift and carry across the room into their bedroom. He nudges the door shut behind him and smiles as he sits her on the bed.

“You always like undressing me,” he says huskily as she turns skillful fingers to freeing him of his belt and pants. He sheds his layers of shirts with one smooth motion, tossing them toward the bench at the end of the bed.

“Not just that.” She’s impatient tonight, despite her earlier climax, but it’s not to get him fully naked apparently. As soon as his boxers are around his thighs, his erection is engulfed by warm wetness. It’s still a welcome surprise when Lori puts her mouth on him, something they hadn’t tried at the quarry at all, and he cups the back of her head and tries to keep his knees steady. That’s her thing, trying to make him buckle under before she lets him climax.

It’s a far cry from her initial efforts, ones that led him to understand it wasn’t something she’d done before. He’ll never complain once about how she’s set about learning. She’s even found a few new things that he’s missed in his own past explorations.

Lori wins the race tonight, a little trick of the tongue that makes him sway and beg, even as her fingers press into sensitive flesh behind his balls. “Want inside you first,” he tells her when she glances up. “Please.”

Stripping naked in a rush is always a bit of a thrill, especially seeing how her body has changed while carrying their child. So is rolling her on her hands and knees into the pillows, supporting her belly as he sheaths himself fully while she cries out his name in a breathy repetition. It’s how he knows she doesn’t see oral sex as a chore, like some women, because she’s so close that it only takes him three strokes before she’s arching back against him, gone right over the edge. He’s not far behind her, spilling himself within her as he tries not to drop any of his weight onto her despite the pillows.

Pressing soft kisses along her bare back, he eases away, helping her roll onto her left side. She smiles up at him, a hazy and drowsy expression across her face. He knows that look, and he doesn’t mind helping her into pajamas, pampering her with stolen kisses as he goes. Their room is warm enough, thanks to the fire in the living room’s fireplace, but it’s never as toasty as a central heating system will get. Nude sleeping will have to wait for summer.

He pads through the place, doing a security check that’s second nature by now; doors and windows closed and locked, even the front door. Carl has a key, should he need to come home in the night. Making sure the fire’s set for the night is easier, with the teenager away, since he only needs to check the downstairs one. The weather is generally warm here, but drops into the forties happen regularly enough during the winter to be cautious.

This place might be an island and the world’s population next to nothing now, but it’s a big island with a lot of shoreline. As much as it may seem like it, Jekyll Island never truly sleeps. There’s always someone on watch, monitoring cameras and sensors placed strategically around the island. But they’re too spread out now to take chances, like easy access to their homes while they sleep.

By the time he returns to the bedroom, Shane expects Lori to be asleep, but instead she’s just laying there smiling at him. “You waiting on me to come back to bed?”

She nods and waits until he’s spooned against her back before she reaches for his hand and tucks it around her breast like how this all started between them. “I love you, you know,” she says softly. “Thought that should be the first thing you heard in the new year.”

When he glances to the clock, he realizes she’s right. It’s four minutes past midnight. Easing up to where he can kiss her, he smiles down at her. “I love you, too.”

The words aren’t a true surprise, because he knows they’ve both felt the emotion for months. But neither has been able to venture the words they each say so easily and prolifically to Carl and their unborn child. He smooths her hair back from her face and decides to push their little milestone a little further. “I’m going to marry you one day, you know.”

It’s a common enough question surrounding them, whether or not they’ll marry. Carl’s the primary person asking, bringing it up about once a month since he learned about the baby. But that timing made Lori look sick with panic when she met Shane’s eyes after the boy kept asking, so he took Carl for a long walk and explained that it wasn’t really needed. He’s not going anywhere; they and the baby are his family as long as he’s breathing.

One day, Carl will probably assemble the clues he’s been given into something that explains why the baby doesn’t mean his mother and Shane will automatically get married. Shane really hopes it’s at least a decade from now. That future date may also include Shane’s own part in everything that led to Carl’s existence in the world, and he’s not ready for that anymore than Lori is.

“Oh really?” For once, Lori’s amused by the subject, not panicked.

“Yeah. It might be next summer, or it might be years and multiple babies down the road, but yeah, I’m going to marry you one day.” Shane smiles down at her. “Providing you say yes.”

“Multiple babies?” she muses, laughing sleepily. “Let’s get this one here before we discuss the next one.”

It’s been such an easy pregnancy that he takes hope that the delivery will be equally easy, making Carl’s c-section arrival a fluke, but only time will tell. If everything goes as it should, he does like the idea of more children, although he’ll be happy with Carl and his daughter if that’s all he’s ever gifted with. He settles back down behind her, nuzzling the soft skin of her neck. “I’m a patient man when I need to be.”

Just when he thinks she’s asleep, Lori speaks again. “I’ll say yes, when you do ask me.”

The surge of love and relief combine to make him hug her almost a little too tightly to him, still cautious of the baby. Shane is smart enough to keep quiet, though, and not push her comfort zone. He knows now that she sees the same future he does, and that’s all the world to him tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Series Note: I'm going to do a block writing rush on the Grenade series, catching the second and third stories up to Rick, and then finish the series off. There's about 6-7 chapters planned between the three stories.
> 
> While that will open new story slots, I'm going to hold off on new ones to tighten up the writing schedule for the others until I'm back to posting at least every 10-14 days for stories. I will start the Daryl/Glenn that's already on the schedule, however, since it's not new, but a sequel.


	9. Nighttime Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judith finally makes her way safely into the world to enrapture her family.

**March 8-10, 2011**

Once Lori’s pregnancy ticks past the thirty-seventh week, she breathes a sigh of relief. It’s not that she expected to have an early birth, but without an NICU, every week extra reduces their chances of the baby having any problems. Even so, Denise has covered every possibility she can, because what was once the master suite of the converted house has everything a nursery might need set up in one corner.

Lori’s baby isn’t the only pregnancy on the island, after all, and as time goes by, even more babies will come. She’s just the first woman to give birth, and it has everyone one edge, not just Lori, Shane, and Carl.

February turns to March, and each night, Lori crosses another day off the calendar in the countdown to March fifth. Of course, after all their worries about the baby coming early, she takes her time.

“Due dates are estimates,” she grumbles as she marks off the third day overdue. Carl was born two weeks early, so it seems like this time, her body just wants to give her that experience of going overdue that all her friends had with their first babies.

“She’s just content to keep hanging out with her mama,” Shane says, steering her toward the bedroom. Carl’s already headed upstairs, so Lori lets him guide her toward bed. She doesn’t get much sleep these days, since there’s not a comfortable position possible, so she’s always tired.

“Her mama would prefer hanging out with her where she can be seen.”

Shane chuckles softly as he tries to work the knots out of her back and neck muscles. “I’ll remind that of you when she hasn’t let us sleep for two days straight.”

Something about the memory makes her feel weepy, remembering when Rick only got a week off work when Carl was born, leaving Lori with the newborn who decided week two was his week to scream and never, ever sleep. Worse yet, no one could calm him other than Rick, not even her mother-in-law when she tried. It had been the worst week of her life, but then week three came, and Carl calmed down as magically as he’d started screaming.

She supposes he simply got adjusted to Daddy going to work, just like this baby will eventually have to get used to Shane doing things during the day that won’t include a baby in tow. “You’re sure it’s going to be okay if you take so much time off?”

By Michonne and Merle’s combined orders, Shane’s essentially off-duty for the next month. It does help to have a community run by people with young families of their own, or pending families, in Merle’s case. Then again, few things here are so desperate to be done at a certain time that the islanders can’t form their lives around their families instead of their jobs.

“I’m sure. Just about everyone who wanted to learn to sail is good to sail without me, and I’ll still rotate down to the gun range once a week while Carol and some of the other ladies come spoil the baby.”

Reassured, Lori smiles over her shoulder at him. “You know, Denise did say that there’s truth to the old wives’ tale about sex jumpstarting labor.” The way her back and hips have been aching for the last week, Lori hasn’t quite felt like trying it before, but at this point? She’s willing to try, and honestly, she misses being that close to him. He’s spoiled her into realizing she actually does have a seriously active libido.

“Yeah? I do think I read something about that in your book.” Shane grins, easing her back to where he can kiss her, even as his hand starts to explore.

Later, she’s a bit irked at herself for not trying it sooner, because it turns out that sex relaxes strained muscles pretty well, too. For the first time in over a week, she falls asleep easily.

Of course, that means that it actually works, because she wakes just after three with all her aches concentrated in one central spot. Her whimper wakes Shane, who’s spent too many years as a cop to sleep deeply. “What’s wrong?” he asks sleepily.

Lori tugs his hand into place around her belly, letting him feel the tenseness. He presses a kiss to her hair as the contraction passes. “How long’s that been happening?”

“I don’t know. I just woke up.”

Her response has him set the timer on his watch before he drapes the arm back around her. “You need to get up and move around or want to stay here?”

“Here, for now.” Getting out of their snug, cozy world before she has to doesn’t sound like a good idea on a day that’s going to be a long one for them both. She dozes lightly until the next contraction.

“Eight minutes.” It’s such a calm response, while held closely to him, that she smiles.

Eventually, it becomes less endurable to stay in the bed, because the contractions get harder and longer, and her body says movement will help. She paces their bedroom until sunrise, pausing for a shower before deciding they might as well move down to the infirmary for the rest. Although they have a small golf cart expressly for the purpose of transporting her down there, the need to move sticks with her, so they walk.

Lori’s only slightly amused that Carl insists on driving the golf cart alongside them, just in case. It’s sweet, especially since she suspects Shane could easily carry her the mile if need be. Enough people are out and about that she knows word will spread. Half the island will know the baby’s on the way before Lori gets settled into Denise’s care.

Pacing the ground floor of the infirmary building gets interspaced with hourly checks to make sure everything is going as planned. There’s no pain medication, because she and Denise agreed that anything that might affect the labor process is something they’re avoiding. Lori thinks that she could write a book of her own on which labor positions work and which ones were developed by idiots who never tried giving birth, but it’s easier than the hospital years ago had been, not being trapped in a bed.

Her daughter is in no more hurry to arrive than her son had been, although where labor with Carl had crossed the twenty-four hour mark, this one comes to a peak at fifteen hours. Having her arms wrapped around Shane’s shoulders while she kneels is so much more comforting than she expected, even if it means she can’t see a damn thing as Denise coaches her through one final push.

Irate squalls sound through the room, and Shane curses softly. “She’s so damned pretty, Lori. Just perfect.”

Being eased into the bed in time to have the baby settled on her chest seems to take forever, but there’s a part of her that adores the idea that Shane is the one cradling their fragile newborn in his big hands. He’s got such a stunned expression that Lori wishes she had a picture of it. As their squirming, birth slick daughter is eased onto her bare chest through the unbuttoned gap in one of Shane’s shirts she borrowed because new birth techniques or not, she wasn’t giving birth completely bare ass naked.

“She’s beautiful,” Lori murmurs, cupping her hand around the dark tuft of hair adoring the baby’s head. The crying quiets, as if the baby knows she’s back safe with her mama at last. Denise is still busy, speaking softly with Lilly, but Lori ignores that part. Her body will sort the rest out, just like it got the precious one in her arms here. 

“Yeah, she is. Just like her mama.” Shane is hoarse, his warm hand covering Lori’s in cupping the baby’s head. “You are amazing, Lori.”

Smiling tiredly, Lori pulls her gaze away from their daughter to look up at him. He’s settled on a stool next to the bed now, a look of absolute devotion on his face as he gazes at them both. “I love you,” she tells him, feeling tears well up.

“I love you, too.” Leaning forward, he brushes a kiss across first Lori’s forehead, then the baby’s. 

Time seems to be frozen in some ways, just the three of them, because Carl was firmly of the idea that he could see the baby after she was born and cleaned up a bit. Eventually, Denise passes Shane dampened cloths to gently wipe away the worst of the birth fluids off the baby, and it seems that all the time against her mother’s chest is enough for instinct to kick in. Nursing comes easily to their half hour old baby, tucked as she is inside Lori’s shirt with Shane’s hand tucked under her small back.

Eventually, they get cleaned up enough not to traumatize Carl, with Lori watching in amusement as grown man sized hands versus newborn sized diaper is actually captured nicely for her by Lilly and a handy Polaroid camera. She’d been so focused on her own little world that she hadn’t noticed the nurse getting one of them together, while the baby was nursing, so she hugs the woman tightly after she’s out of the shower and tucked back in the bed.

“Can you get one of Carl and the baby?” she asks, and Lilly nods. Her professional skills to assist Denise hadn’t been needed for much of anything, which is a joy to everyone involved.

Lori is so very glad she asked, because watching the concern and worry on Carl’s face morph to absolute adoration of his sister is a photo worth having. “She’s so tiny, Mom. Was I this little?”

“Smaller, actually,” she tells him. “She’s almost two full pounds heavier than you were. Seven pounds and ten ounces.” Her first contact with Carl had been reaching into the isolette, something everyone is glad is sitting empty and idle in the corner today.

“What’s her name going to be?” Denise asks. The doctor looks tired and happy, her hair tucked neatly back into the ponytail it escaped while she helped bring the baby into the world.

“Judith Jean,” Carl announces proudly. “I picked out her first name, but the Jean is for Shane’s grandma.”

The middle name had been a short debate, between Shane’s mother and grandmother, since Lori had no female relatives she cared to honor and hadn’t especially wanted to pass on either of her own names. In the end, Lori opted for Jean after realizing in a baby name book that both Shane and Jean were different variants of John anyway. He’ll figure it out eventually, she thinks, but it’s her little secret for now.

“It’s a pretty name,” Denise tells him, writing it across a new chart. “You feeling up to having some supper?” she asks, turning toward Lori. “I can call down to have something sent up, because if I send Shane down there, we might not see him for hours thanks to curious well wishers.”

Shane laughs. “The fun part will be keeping them all from wanting to visit.”

Judith is the first baby born on the island, and something about the idea of her gives people hope even beyond what having other babies like little Gracie on the island does. Birth in a world overpopulated by death is amazing, but Lori definitely isn’t up for visitors yet.

“Oh, I will keep the visitor list limited. We may be having an amazingly healthy time without a lot of colds and such, but we are taking no chances with this sweet little one.” Denise’s sweet exterior belies that she’s part of the island leadership, because she doesn’t lay down orders often. She’ll be listened to on this one.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, sweetheart?” Shane’s voice is a comforting murmur as she lays on her side, watching her children get acquainted. Lori can barely keep her eyes open now, and Judith is safe and secure with Carl and Shane, so she lets herself drift off, feeling a kiss pressed to her forehead.

~*~*~*~

Bringing his family back home the morning after Judith’s birth makes Shane feel content in a way few things in his life have ever done. Denise kept Lori and the baby in the infirmary overnight, stating it was a precaution. He wasn’t inclined to argue, because everything about his delicate newborn is on the better safe than sorry side of things for him right now.

Lori settles in with a tired glow, cradling Judith to her on the couch in the living room as if she still can’t quite believe their daughter is real. Carl doesn’t wander far, attention divided between his sister when she’s awake, one of the baby development books that take up half a shelf in the bookshelf now, and an honest to God baby memento book he’s gotten from somewhere. His normal sloppy penmanship is painfully neat as Carl fills in the blanks in the little book.

Shane keeps them fed and comfortable, something made easy by the fact that in the single day they were away from the house, their freezer has been filled with a week’s worth of easy to heat meals. It’s Carol’s doing, he knows even before he sees the small note on the counter with instructions on how each one should be heated up. He’s grateful that she’s just across the way, not far at all if they need a little extra help.

“I feel like I’m keeping her all to myself,” Lori says quietly as Judith finishes nursing mid-afternoon. Carl’s finally given in to the need to go chatter with the other kids about his new sister, and Shane can hear them all out on the porch, admiring the Polaroid images of Judith. “You’ve only taken her for diaper changes.”

“I got in my cuddles then.” Shane settles on the couch when Lori pats the spot beside her, settling the drowsy baby against his own chest as Lori refastens her clothing. He’s not entirely sure he’s ever seen her dressed in anything more attractive than one of his button up shirts over soft leggings. She has shirts designed for nursing, but he’s not objecting if she prefers his shirts instead.

Judith yawns against him, tiny baby mouth damp against the side of his neck. He settles her onto the burp cloth, patting her back until the air bubble exits, making her startle and cry. “Hey now, that’s supposed to happen, Judy baby,” he cajoles, easing the baby down into the crook of his arm. She blinks up at him, slate blue eyes trying to focus on him.

“She knows yours and Carl’s voice for sure,” Lori says fondly. 

The effect has been rather cute, because Judith does wiggle around anytime either of them speak, but especially Carl. It makes the teenager beam each time he realizes his sister is trying to find him, specifically.

“I just hope he stays as enamored of her as he is now,” Shane muses. “Downside of their age gap is that he probably won’t want a toddler underfoot when he gets his first serious girlfriend.” 

Considering the puppy love crush Carl has on Sophia, Shane figures that little gal is probably going to be equally enamored of Judith. Another girl might not be, and puppy love rarely lasts into the older teen years in Shane’s experience. Then again, it’s not like there are a hundred other girls to distract Carl here.

“Fewer distractions here.” Lori shrugs off the issue easily. “And hopefully no one to make fun of him for being attached to his sister.”

There is that as an additional factor. Judith is falling asleep in Shane’s arms, safe and content. Somehow he’s not surprised when Lori curls up on the couch, too, laying her head in his lap in the small space left free by their daughter. “How’s it feel to be a daddy?” she asks, looking up at him.

Shane reaches down to cup her face in his hand. “Most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me,” he tells her honestly. He never expected to be a father, because with Rick alive, he honestly hadn’t been capable of giving enough attention to any woman to make marriage and fatherhood a possibility. 

It’s different with Carl, because as much as their relationship has changed to father-son instead of uncle-nephew since Rick’s death, twelve years of the latter relationships makes things feel a bit different than this almost overwhelming sense of connection he feels when he looks at Judith. He’s honest enough to admit some of it may be that she’s a girl, too, because raising her will be different than raising Carl on many levels, he suspects. Then again, she’s his daughter, so maybe not so much.

Later that night, he’s alone with Judith for perhaps the first time. Lori’s asleep after the near midnight feeding, and Judith is wakeful instead of drowsy for once. Shane takes her with him into the living room instead of putting her back in the bedside baby sleeper, humming softly as he makes note of the diaper change and feeding. Denise had been very stern in tracking everything to make sure the baby’s eating enough, so the chart is a careful record in Shane’s handwriting.

“That was a very gross diaper, young lady,” he tells her. “If Denise hadn’t warned me, I would have thought you’ve been eating licorice instead of drinking mama’s milk.” It won’t stay that weird, tar black color, he knows, because he’d read the books even without Denise warning him, but it’s still the grossest thing the baby’s managed in her almost thirty hours of life. Considering that includes a mini-barf down Carl’s shirt right after supper, she’s getting accomplished at introducing her male family members to life with a baby.

His response is a yawn, but Judith doesn’t seem all that sleepy. “You trying to flip your days and nights around, sweetheart?” he asks her, enjoying how she alerts to him each time he speaks. Knowing Lori needs sleep more than he does, Shane spots the latest book Carl was reading to the baby before birth and figures why the hell not. Settling into his usual spot on the couch after flicking on the lamp, he opens the book to the marked spot and starts to read.

Eventually, lack of sleep will catch up to all of them, and he won’t enjoy sitting in the quiet of the night reading to the baby so much. But one thing he remembers from Carl’s infancy, a fact that was reinforced in horrific loss at Rick’s death, is that life is way too fucking short not to enjoy moments like this while you can. The thought of Rick stirs the never truly absent sense of grief, now dulled by time, and despite the impossibility it presents on multiple levels, he wishes the other man were here to share this moment with him.

The thought has him slide the book closed, and instead of an adventure of a pig and a spider, Shane tells his daughter all about Rick instead. His memory deserves to be passed on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost skipped the birth entirely, as even after all this time I'm burned out on birthing scenes after the mass of them toward the end of RBM, but it finally worked out. The show never detailed why Lori had a c-section, so with a healthy, comfortable pregnancy without starvation and fleeing walkers, I figure the odds of an easy birth are much higher.
> 
> Next chapter... Rick finally gets word that his family didn't make it to the refugee center.


	10. This is Being Made Whole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane and Lori deal with the emotional impact of Rick's return from the dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, folks. It continues where Rick's last chapter (13) ended in _Life is Unknowable_.

** April 14, 2011 **

Having Rick walk into his living room is something Shane hasn’t even dreamed about in months, not since they left the quarry. In those dreams, it had been the Grimes’ house in King County where the other man appeared, not a condo miles away on the Georgia coast. They certainly hadn’t featured him holding his month old daughter while he hugged Rick to him. It feels like a hallucination, but no hallucination would feel as solid as Rick does, and he blinks away tears.

Judith finally gets frustrated enough to make them end the embrace, demanding his attention. Shane isn’t quite sure how to handle this introduction, and joy is seeping away to be replaced by trepidation. He swallows hard, soothing the baby, before meeting Rick’s eyes at last.

In the meantime, Rick’s draped an arm around Carl’s shoulders, and something about his reassuring smile tells Shane that he already knows who Judith is. “Why don’t we all go sit down? Let you get her settled. Where’s Lori?”

“She’s taking a nap. Judy’s been having a growth spurt, so she was up half the night.” Shane sighs, thinking of just how exhausted Lori is, with the baby nursing every two or three hours all night and into today. He can only help so much with that part of things, although the breast pump someone rustled up this morning will help going forward. “But I’d better go wake her.”

“I’ll take Judy,” Carl volunteers, eager hands reaching for his sister as if their world isn’t about to be knocked sideways by his father’s return. Shane passes her over, letting the teenager cradle the cranky baby against his chest. Once she’s settled, Carl smiles at Rick. “C’mon, Dad.”

When Rick follows Carl, Shane detours back to the bedroom, going to sit on the bed and shake Lori awake. “Hey, Lori, baby, wake up. We got a visitor.” His voice breaks on that last word, which doesn’t even come close to explaining the resurrected man in their living room.

Lori blinks tiredly, but tries to sit up, pushing her hair back from her face. “Who’s so important it can’t wait?” she mumbles.

He reaches for her, pulling her to him for a hug, because he has this horrible feeling it might be the last time she allows him this close. Pressing a kiss to her temple, he takes a deep breath, because letting her walk into their living room with no warning would be the cruelest thing he could do to her right now. “Rick isn’t dead.”

“What? This isn’t funny, Shane.” Lori pulls away from him, confusion giving way to anger.

“I know it isn’t, and it’s not a prank, Lori. I swear to you, I thought he was dead. I never would have told you otherwise. I wouldn’t have done that to you, and on my own life, I wouldn’t have done that to Carl.”

Her temper gets Lori past being groggy to alert, and she stalks across the room. He can tell she still hadn’t believed him, not until she actually sees Rick Grimes sitting on their couch. The most astounding part of the sight for Shane is no longer that Rick is alive and breathing. 

It’s the fact that he’s holding Judith, smiling down at the baby girl like she’s the prettiest sight he’s seen all day.

“Rick?” Lori lets out a sob, hands covering her mouth as soon as she does. 

Rick smiles when he looks up. “You look beautiful, Lori.” He seems to mean it, and Shane agrees that the pregnancy glow has stuck around to give Lori a healthy beauty she won’t see in herself due to the messy hair and shirt stolen from Shane’s closet.

Unlike Shane, who had to touch Rick, to hug him and feel that he was real and not an illusion, Lori can’t see to propel herself across the room. Shane lays his hands on her shoulders gently, but he’s not surprised when she jerks herself away from him. “You said he was dead,” she hisses. “You mourned him!”

He had, and he can still remember the night Lori reached down from her perch on the air mattress to touch his face when he admitted to her just how deeply that he loved Rick. “I thought he was, Lori,” he says hoarsely, feeling everything important slipping away from him in the betrayal on her face. “I couldn’t find his pulse. I checked his breathing. Laid my head on his chest, and there was no heartbeat.”

The terror of those moments in the hospital comes back to him like it happened yesterday instead of eleven months ago, and he feels like he can’t fucking breathe. He tears his gaze away from her horrified expression to look at Rick, finding some solace in the soft kindness he sees in familiar blue eyes. “They were executing people in the halls, Rick. Just lining up the nurses and doctors and shooting them like they were worthless.”

“I know.” The quiet words draw Lori’s attention to Rick as well. “It happened on every floor. A nurse survived, and she told me she thought I was dead, too, at first. She would have to explain the details of the health part of it, but she stayed until I woke up.” Rick pats the couch. “You should both sit down. I think we both have long stories to tell.”

This time, when Shane touches Lori, she doesn’t flinch away, letting him guide her to the spot next to Rick. Carl’s on his other side, so Shane takes a seat on the coffee table. It’s sturdy enough, and moving to the smaller couch is just too far away right now. His knees brush against Lori’s as he checks that Judith is sound asleep in Rick’s arms.

“Lori. Look at me.”

Rick’s request gets through the emotions Lori seems to be struggling with, and she looks up from where her hands are gripping the fabric of her leggings. “Where have you been?” she asks, voice plaintive. “Were you in the hospital all this time?”

Shane hopes the hell not, because otherwise, bypassing King County to come here is one of the more horrible decisions he’s ever made.

“No. I woke up on the fourth of July, of all days to wake up. Alex, my nurse, she made me wait another week before leaving the hospital, because I couldn’t manage to walk steadily, much less run or help her with walkers. We checked the house, met another family, and then went to Atlanta on the fifteenth. We found the refugee center had been bombed.”

“They dropped napalm on the city before we got there,” Shane tells him. “We were stuck in a traffic jam outside Atlanta. I took them to that quarry campground outside the city, but it wasn’t viable for a long term camp, so we came here once it was clear no other help was coming.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Rick. We were there on the fifteenth. We didn’t leave Atlanta until the end of July.”

“We were so close,” Carl says, sounding amazed. “Where did you go after that, Dad?”

Rick details a trip to north Georgia to seek out his nurse’s family, and finding out that her girls had gone to Atlanta, too. It’s Carl who fills in the blanks. “That’s how you know Lizzie and Mika! They really were in the refugee center, though. Some of the soldiers here evacuated them when they got a warning the bombs were coming.”

“So you thought we were dead, too?” Lori asks. Shane eases his hand across her knee, bumping his fingers into hers, and takes a relieved breath when she takes his hand. Her grip is tight, almost desperate, and he wishes he knew what’s going on in her head. She’s made no move to touch Rick, and he’s not sure if it’s shock or the baby in her husband’s arms, or something else entirely.

“I did.” Rick shifts the baby enough to reach out and take Lori’s other hand, and that’s when Shane sees it. There’s a glint of gold on Rick’s left hand, and Shane isn’t the only one to notice. He knows that Rick’s wedding band is in a jewelry box in the bedroom, tucked away with Lori’s rings in case Carl ever wants them.

Lori stares at his hand for a moment. “Your nurse, or someone else you met?” she asks softly.

“Alex.” Rick takes a deep breath. “At Christmas, on this farm we came across, where the family invited us to stay the winter.”

“Dad told Lizzie and Mika that Alex stayed at the farm to look after some injured people.” Carl leans forward to stare at the ring, and that’s when Shane realizes that Rick is as afraid as Shane and Lori about what his return from the dead means. But it isn’t their approval or disapproval that Rick seeks. It’s Carl’s.

“A group came down out of Atlanta, where they were holed up in a hospital for months. Some of their people were injured when they left, but they had word there was a community down here. We came ahead to see if it was true, rather than make everyone travel all at once.” Rick looks at Carl. “Alex was their stepmother.”

“Huh.” Carl thinks it over. “Their mama died after the bombing,” he tells his father. “But they had two moms, so they’ve been hoping Alex would find them.”

“She will, as soon as I can get her here.” Rick looks down at Judith for a minute, taking a deep breath. “You’re going to have more siblings by August.”

“Well, yeah, Lizzie and Mika.”

Shane makes the connection when Rick shakes his head, and it makes him laugh softly. The idea that Rick started a new family makes sense. It’s essentially what Shane and Lori clawed out of their grief and loss, reweaving themselves around the gaping hole that losing Rick left in all their lives. “When’s she due?” he asks, flashing all three of them a grin as they look up. Remembering the plural, he can’t resist adding, “And seriously, man, twins?”

Rick studies him for a moment, and Shane just lets the grin settle into a fond smile. The hurt that gripped him when he learned about Lori being pregnant Carl isn’t present now, just a sense of wonder that he no longer feels that half of him is missing when he looks at Rick. Shane squeezes Lori’s hand, looking away from Rick to see Lori has tears in her eyes, but she’s starting to smile hesitantly.

“Yeah, twins. Alex was a fraternal twin herself.”

Carl starts peppering his father with questions about Alex, the babies, and the people on this farm, and Shane takes advantage of the boy’s curiosity to take Judith from Rick, feeling her tiny form loll in his arms. Depositing her in the bedside sleeper, he returns to the living room, letting the conversation roll over him. 

He and Lori still have some issues to discuss, he knows, but for now, it seems they’ve dodged the biggest issues where Rick’s concerned. There aren’t enough words for how grateful Shane is for that, because having to chose between having Rick alive and losing Lori? That’s one hell of an impossible choice he’s glad he won’t have to endure.

~*~*~*~

By the time Shane’s radio crackles with an inquiry from Merle about the newcomers, Lori feels more like she’s not caught up in just imagining the last year was just a nightmare. She takes in the changes she sees in Rick, and it’s more than just the ring on his finger. He looks like he’s finally comfortable in his own skin. Despite the crazy world around them, he also seems a lot better rested and less stressed than he did in all his years as a deputy.

“Merle wants to know if you want to try a return trip tonight or to set out in the morning?” Shane asks. “They’re going to send a couple of supply teams with you, since one of your people said something about cattle and other farm animals to transport.”

“That would be Maggie, I bet. Her father’s got a herd of about a hundred cattle, a good sized chicken flock, plus some miscellaneous livestock collected from neighboring farms,” Rick explains. “It would be good, to head back tonight, so everyone knows there’s a safe place to go. The Atlanta folks have had a rough time recently, and they’re camping on the farm.”

“If it turns cold, they’ll sure hate that,” Lori comments. Carl looks near tears at the thought of Rick leaving, and as much as the idea terrifies her, she knows he’ll be safe with Rick. “Maybe Carl can go with you. He’s old enough to help.”

Her son is beaming, overjoyed by her suggestion. Learning not to be overprotective of him was one of the harder lessons she’d learned in recent months. They’re both happier for it, and he balks at the rules she does set down a lot less in response. 

Rick’s smile is just as bright. “That would be perfect, actually. He can help Duane, Beth, and Jimmy.”

Once Shane’s relayed things to Merle and gotten summoned down to the hotel, Lori sends Carl upstairs to pack a few things in the go bag that they all have in case they ever need to evacuate the island. The trip isn’t planned to last more than a day or two, but she still checks everything over, making sure Carl hasn’t taken something important out and forgotten to put it back. She even adds extra ammo for the gun she’d given him when Shane convinced her to switch to a Glock like his.

Carl runs to tell Judy goodbye, even though the baby’s asleep, and for the first time, Lori’s alone with Rick. “Thank you,” he tells her. “Letting him go. I wouldn’t have asked, in case you thought it was too dangerous.”

Lori knows her smile is unsteady, but she nods. “I know it’s too dangerous, but he’ll be with you. I trust you to keep him safe.”

Rick reaches halfway toward her before dropping his hands, so it’s Lori who completes the aborted hug, wrapping her arms around him and breathing in the scent of him. It’s familiar and not, too many changes in environment and hygiene items to be entirely ‘her’ Rick. That’s good, though, because it solidifies that realization in her mind, that he’s not hers, and she doesn’t want him to be. “I am so glad Shane was wrong. We all owe Alex so much,” she tells him as he hugs her back.

“We do. I think you’ll like her, you know.” There’s a gentle kiss to her forehead, before Rick lets her go. “You know everything now, don’t you? About me and Shane and you?”

Nodding, Lori wraps her arms around herself. “I never imagined something like this happening with Shane, even if we hadn’t made things work.” Honestly, divorcing Rick never would have led to anything between her and Shane. It took that heart wrenching loss to make them draw close enough to seek each other out for comfort. “But I do love him.”

“I’m glad.” Rick smiles, warm and genuine. “You deserve the kind of love he’s capable of. And Judith? I’m going to enjoy every minute of spoiling her rotten.”

The acknowledgement that what they’d had wasn’t what it should have been hurts, but it’s such a minor thing now. Carl reappears, picking up his pack and hugging Lori tight. “You be careful, Carl. Pay attention to everything your dad says to do,” she tells him.

“I will, Mom. It’s just a day or two.”

Lori watches them go, walking together, and enjoys the similarities she sees between father and son. She never expected to have a day like today, and she still remembers the bitter anger that swept over her when Shane first woke her. She owes him an apology, or maybe a dozen apologies. All but accusing him of lying about Rick was the worst thing she’s ever done to Shane, and it’s too close to her spiteful behavior with Rick before he was shot for her to be comfortable.

Unable to sleep, she makes herself a cup of tea while Judith sleeps, before going to sit on the bed and just watch the baby. “Sweetpea, I think maybe you have some magic dust and invisible wings,” she says softly. That had been part of her initial negative reaction, the idea of telling Rick she’d had a child that wasn’t his. But Rick seems as enamored of Judith as everyone else who meets her.

Shane doesn’t make it home until supper’s almost ready, but Judith is content in her swing, making soft cooing noises. For once, he bypasses the baby to greet Lori first, his embrace a little hesitant until she cuts the heat on the stovetop and turns to wrap her arms tightly around him. His now familiar form is what feels right against her now, and where Rick’s scent had changed and no longer seems entirely familiar, Shane smells like salt air, gun oil, leather, and the spicy cologne he seems to have an endless supply of.

“I love you,” she tells him at last, angling for a kiss.

He complies readily, hands leaving her waist to cup her face as he deepens the kiss. When they finally part, there are tears in his eyes. “I love you, too, Lori, and I hated myself for a minute earlier when I thought that Rick appearing might mean you’d miss your marriage to him, and it made me pray I didn’t have to choose.”

The word choose makes her shiver, because what lurked in her mind wasn’t her choosing between Rick and Shane, but the possibility that the two men might decide the world can’t keep them apart anymore. He catches the involuntary movement and runs large hands along her shoulders and arms. “I didn’t mean that kind of choose,” he tells her huskily. “I meant between being happy he was alive or hating losing you to him.”

She’s had months of reassurance that Shane’s in love with her, but loving two people equally isn’t an impossible thing, she knows. “No regrets that he’s married once again?”

“None. I was pretty damn relieved, because I would have hated to tell him it’s not like that for me anymore. It isn’t for him, either, I don’t think. He doesn’t look so lost when he looks at me now.” He smiles, kissing her again, letting it linger until Judith fusses. “Go feed our tiny princess. I’ll dish up the food.”

Although there’s the nagging worry in the back of her mind about Rick and Carl being so far away, Lori squashs it back and settles in with Judith. They thought that the little girl was the best gift they could receive after the world ended, but today proved that wasn’t true. While their family did shift and reform to survive Rick’s loss, Lori’s confident that they’ll adapt again. At least it’s for much happier reasons this time.

When they settle in bed for the night, Lori doesn’t settle into the spooning position they usually sleep in. Instead, she lays her head on Shane’s broad chest, listening to his heartbeat under her ear. It’s strong and steady, just like this man, her wonderful second chance at being in love. She’s just going to hold on tight, because as much as thinking Rick was dead hurt, losing Shane would probably come close to killing her. 

Life had been completely unthinkable when he laid his head on her shoulder and cried as the world they knew ended that last afternoon in her home. They had faced that overwhelming abyss and come out of it with something so beautiful she could never have imagined it before. This? This is being made whole after a lifetime of yearning, and she’s going to hold onto it forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each of the other stories will get one final chapter, so the series is nearly done for now. I will possibly write some future short stories for it (10 chapters or less) for Glenn/OC amd possibly others, just for updates to this little AU world, but there's no timeline on that.


End file.
